Boy's Cinema (1939-40)

14 Just then Joan came in from the kitchen. She was fair-haiied «tid about a couple of years youngsr than Bob. She was pretty, too, in spite of the fact that she was hot and flustered from cooking. "What's the matter with us, Jeff?" she asked shortly. "Aren't we good enough for your Long Island friends?" "Shut up, Joan!" Jeff snapped at her. "I won't shut up!" She slapped a dish down on the table and confronted liim angrily. "Ever since you met her you've been high-hatting us. It isn't good enough. Dad's worked hard all his life to give you what you've got now, and I won't see him pushed around now you're big enough to stand on your own feet. You wouldn't be any- thing but for him." "Take it easy, Joan," Gunner said un- comfortably. Jeff swung round on him angrih*. "If you'd brought her up bett«r she wouldn't talk like that," he said. "How can I ask a girl like Miss Courtney here when Jo.in beliaves like some hellcat?" Even Gunner was roused then. "Don't call your sister names, Jeff," he warned. "You make me tired!" Jeff moved to- wards the door. " Look at you ! Always talk- ing about the past—about how you were a heavy-weight champion of the world. And what are you now?" "Be quiet, Jeff!" shouted Joan. Jeff ignored her. "You're nothing better than a commission- aire outside a night club. And you only got that job because people are sorry for you." He laughed bitterly. "A commissionaire! Holding open cab doors for people like Miss Courtney. And you expect me to bring her here and meet you as an equal." Joan went up to him, her eyes gleaming. "I suppose you've told her all about us," she said. "You've told her the low kind of family you've come from." "She knows nothing about my family." "I see. You're ashamed of us—ashamed of dad. Is that it?" "I'd rather not go info it." "But I would. I want to know." "You want to know! You!" Jeff glared at her. "Keep out of tliis, understand? If you met Miss Courtney you wouldn't know "how to behave. You'd disgrace me, and " He broke off suddenly. Bob had crossed the room quickly, and had taken hold of him by the lapels of his coat. "Jeff," he said, "I don't like the way you're talking about Joan and Gunner. If I have another word out of you I'm going to sock you clean in the jaw." Gunner tried to intervene. "It's all right. Bob," he said. "The boy didn't mean any harm. He'll quieten down after a bit." "If by that you mean I'm going to change my mind about bringing Miss Courtney to this dump, you're wrong!" Jeff' snapped. "Going?" Bob asked quietly, and gave him a shove towards the door. Jeff lost his temper and swung a fist wildly at Bob's head. But Bob knew how to look after himself. He might not be able to give the champ a hiding, but he didn't find it hard to deal with things like this. He brushed the blow aside and let Jeff have it. Jeff took a clenched fist hard on the side of the jaw and had to clutch wildly at the edge of the door to keep himself from falling. He glared at Bob, tlien suddenly turned and strode out of the room. Gunner sighed heavily as the door closed behind him. Ho shook his head sadly. "I guess he's a bit swollen-headed," he Baid. "But he'll get over it." "Not him," said Joan, on her way back to the kitchen. "He'll come back later to get his clothes. He'll nio\p out." Gunner sighed again. He was afraid she was right. Well, there was nothing he could do about it. The boy was old enough to make his own decisions and go his own way. All the same. Gunner wished it hadn't January 6th. 1940. » BOY'S CINEMA turned out this way. He was a kind-hearted man, and wanted a son who v.ould come to him for help and guidance. Gunner was the kind of man who could never do much for liimself, but who would sell the shirt off his back fcr anyone else. He looked at Bob thoughtfully. Suddenly he made up his mind. "Bob," he said, "I reckon I'm not much of a fighter these days, but I still know a whole lot of tricks. How about you and me getting together over that training j'ou want? Is it a deal ?" Bob turned to him excitedly. "You mean it. Gunner?" he asked. "Sure. I'll fix up some sort of a gym in a cellar a pal of mine's got. I reckon I can dig enough dough out of the old stocking to do that much. You can pay me back when you're pulling down the big money." Bob reached out and gripped Gunner by the hand. "It's a deal," he said. "And you'll never have reason to regret it." DANGER! THE next few months were pretty busy. Bob worked hard at his training and did so well that Crossley began to give him small bouts in local shows, just by way of nursing him on. And Bob won them one after the other. The fellow who owned the cellar in which Bob trained was himself an old fighter—he was now known to his friends as Mushy. He was a queer little baldheaded man, but like Gunner, his heart was in the right place. Meanwhile, (he time for Jeff's marriage drew near. Jeff did not ask his family to it, but Gunner never held that against him. He decided that the boy had to have a present of some sort. But he hadn't any money to spare on presents. That was the trouble. In the end he decided to sell the one valu- able thing he possessed. It was his champion- ship belt. He got it out of the house without Joan seeing and went down to the hock-shop on the corner. The man behind the counter greeted him cheerfully. "Hallo, Gunner!" he said. "How's life these days?" "Mighty good," Gunner replied enthusi- asticaliv. "That young boxer I'm training is coming along fast. Of course, he's only small-time just now. but the day will come when he's going right to the top. You see!" "I've heard he's good," the man said. "Well, what can I do for you?" Reluctantly Gunner pulled the belt from his pocket. He hated parting with it, but there was no help for it. A guy's son didn't get married every day of the week. "I want to dispose of this," he said. "I had it given to me when I won the champion- ship in 1915. It's set with diamonds and things, and it's worth five hundred dollars. How about it?" The man took the belt and looked at it critically. . , ,. , „„ "Who told you it was set with diamonds? he asked after a moment or two. "Why, evervbodv knows it is," said Gunner. "You wouldn't try to gyp me, would you?" "I wouldn't—and you know it." The man shook his head sadly. "I'm sorry, Gunner. Those stones are paste. The best I can do is twcntv-five." "Twenty-five!" Gunner exclaimed. Listen, you can't " "'J'ake it or leave it!" Gunner hunched his shoulders and took it. Tlieie was nothing else he could do. After all, he had to buy Jeff a present, and twenty- fivo dollars was better than nothing. With the money he bought a clock. It was a terrific affair. It was a large black cupid, and the clock was set in a hole bored through its chest. "It's symbolical," he told Joan when he got it home. "You can see the idea. The ciiliid has to do with love—see? And the clock—well, I guess a clock is always useful." "It's marvellous!" said Joan. She wouldn't let on for the world tlkat it was about the Every Tuesday most awful-looking object she had ever seen. " What did you pawn to raise the money for it?" " Now, see here, Joan " "Was it your championship belt?" Gunner passed his hand over his forehead uncomfortably. He wished women w-ouldn't ask so many questions. They were always doing it. Joan's mother was just the same. "Well, you see, I can easily get it back again. Wlien Bob fights the champ we'll be rolling in dough." To Gunner's intense surprise, she put her arms round him and hugged him. "You're a darling !" she cried, and her eyes were moist. Gunner gave it up. He was blowed if women weren't the queerest cusses he ever knew. Here was he, expecting to get raved at for what he'd done, and she fell on his neck and kissed him. A fellow couldn't keep pace with them. The marriage went off all right, and that was that. Gunner wasn't invited, but he and Joan and Bob went to the church and mingled with the crowd. Months passed and slowly Bob climbed towards the top. He had a short tour of some of the outlying towns, and beat local champions so fast that he couldn't keep count of them. Meanwhile, other things were happenings this time with Jeff'. Jeff had never told Doris, his wife, that he came from a poor family. He had always put her off with some story that his folks were in Europe, and were pretty big people in their way. He also made out that he was making a great deal more money than he really was. The result was that Doris, brought up in an expensive family, ran up a lot of bills. It was Mushy who found out that there was trouble brewing. He worked as a bar- tender in the same place where Gunner was commissionaire. He was down under the bar one day, clear- ing up some glasses somebody had knocked over. And he heard a couple of his customers talking. One said : " I need about fifty thousand dollars, and I need them quickly. Could you lend them to me, Mr. Courtney?" "I'm sorry, Jeff', but I can't. I've been having a flyer on Iron Deeps, and they've tied me up." Mushy pricked up his ears. Courtney— Jeff ! "That was Gunner's son and the father- in-law ! "It's this way," Jeff said. "I know I can talk to you, because you're on the Stock Exchange, too. I thought I saw a good thing in Iron Deeps, so I went in with all I'd got— and with all a client of mine had got, too." "I see," said Courtney slowly. "The client was away in Europe. She's coming back in about a week, and—well, she'll want a statement of her affairs. I'm afraid if I don't find enough to cover I'ra going to be in the hands of the police." "As bad as that, eh?" said ^Ir. Courtney. "Has Doris been spending you pretty dry?" "Yes." Mushy breathed heavilv, and crawled along behind the counter until it was safe enough to bob up. So Jeff was in a jam, eh? Well, the silly nitwit had asked for it. He had tried to speak pretty carelessly, but Mushy could tell that he was mighty worried. If JMushy had his way he'd let Jeff take what was coming to him. But he knew Gunner wouldn't like that. So when they finished work that night Mushy took Gunner along to the cellar. When the door was closed behind them, Mushy told Gunner what he had heard. Gunner was pretty upset. But not for a moment did he condemn the boy. He was Jeff's father and he had to help all he could. "Fifty thousand smackers!" he nuittered. "That's a lot of dough. Mushy." ".Inst a bit more than I've got in the bank," Mushy replied. "By about forty-nine thousand nine hundred and eighty dollars !" "Something's got to be done." Gunner paced u]! and down agitatedly. "Gee, if only I could lay my h«.nds on enough to have a few bets on Bob ! He's meeting the champ the