Boy's Cinema (1930-31)

Every Tuesday bombardment of punches that brought the spectators to their feet. The Kid's defensive tactics in the face of that onslaught were magnificent, covering all vulnerable points, blocking the champion's route to a quick knock- out. The Kid was punished, but only where he could stand punishment. No hammer-blow smashed home to jaw or solar. The bell intervened when Shay was still striving to plaster the Kid with telling punches. Shay took the honours for the first round. The second round found the Kid re- maining on the defensive. His whole being yearned to launch an attack that would overwhelm the champion's, but George Regan's advice was drumming through hie brain, and he held himself in check. Shay, battling savagely, piled up th^ points in his favour, but he could not break through the challenger's guard to land a decisive blow, or one that would weaken the Kid's stamina and leave him wide open for a clean-cut "kayo." The Kid's body was marked, but when tho bell clanged once more he slithered to his corner with an agile stride and a tireless grin. Round three opened with a fierce rally, both men "mixing it," giving and taking puntlies that snapped home with the smait thud of padded leather pound- ing flesh and bone. The crowd roared, and, mingling with the din, the voice of an announcer broadcasting the fight ro.se to a shrill pitch of excitement. • ^he Kid was fighting back. Attack antl' defence skilfully balanced, he planted left and right in the champion's face and body, and plainly had him worried. But Shay came in again towards the end of the three-minute sjiell and finished strongly. The round was even. Siiay used all he had in the beginning of the fourth round, for he could see that tho Kid was settling down, and he aimed to break him befoie he could get into his stride. He came dangerously near to succeeding, but the Kid weathered the fury of the onslaught, and as it waned he gradually opened himself out and took the offensive. The cliami). w^is rattled with a volley of punches, and, as he let himself go, the Kid's attack became something that was as dynamic as a storm. Shay was battered into a corner from which he failed to escape. His ribs and chest began to -show raw weals of punish- ment, and a right-hook brought him to his knees at the close of the round, which was the challenger's. The champion opened shakily when the bell had signalled the seconds out of the ring again, and the Kid waded into him, raining blows from every angle. The crowd ros6 as one man and howled encouragement. Amid the clamour the thudding of the Kill's mitts could be heaid planting punch after punch with deadly effect, smashing Sliaj's nigged physique, smashing their way to the ptiysii title. Shay tried to cover up. but a crisp drive to the solar bored under his guard. His hands dropped, and the Kid whipped his right to the jaw with an impact that numbed the champ. He dropped, and pandemonium seemed to break loose among the spectators. Shay was down, and looked as if he were to stay down. " Six—seven—eight " Tho champion struggled up gamely. But he was a beaten man, and in no shape to stave off the end for long. The Kid slithered close to him again and slammed his glove to tho point once more. Shay came up on his toes and toppled face forward, and he was counted out amid scenes of the BOY'S CINEMA wildest enthusLasni and excitement. The Kid was the first to help Shay to his corner, and then, candying the,title belt, he came to the ringside and leaned through the ropes to speak into a micro- phone that the wireless announcer was indicating. "The new champion of the world, Kid Mason, is going to say a few words to you," the announcer called. "Talk right in here, champ." "Hallo, folks!" said the Kid, his voice querulous with the thrill of his achieve- ment. "I'm—I'm mighty glad to be champion, and—and I want to say for Mike Shay that he was no easy cinch— ste ? He's a good scrapper. And— and " He stammered for a moment. Then, with a sheepish grin: "Hallo, Rose," he added, "I won! I'll be right home " Later that night the new champion might have been seen with his striking wife at one of the exclusive restauran'ts in town, an uncomfortable and rather wistful figure in a starched shirt and ail elegantly-cut evening suit, his good humour somewhat damped by the fact that he was not celebrating his victory in the customary way. " What's the matter ?" Rose asked with a sidelong glance at him. "Aren't you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, sure!" the Kid told her hurriedly. "Sure. I was just wishing you'd let me ask George to come along A look of impatience appeared in Rose's eyes. The expression was quickly curbed. "But you're the champion now, dear," she protested. " We must associate with the better class of people—people of refinement." The Kid stared gloomily at his champagne glass. "Yeah, I know," he muttered. "But I was thinkin' of the boys. I always used to throw a feed for them—you know, tho fellers that were down on their luck." "Oh, celebrating your victory with a lot of riff-raff!" Rose snapped peevishly. And, meanwhile, in a private room of a certain modest hotel, tJeorge Regan was doing his best to explain tho Kid's absence to the so-called "riff-raff." It was ail absence that was prolonged far beyond tho duration of the banquet, as Mr. and Mrs. Mason repaired the following day to ,Miami, Florida, whore smart Society gathered during the sea- son; and in the weeks that ensued, George Rogan took to drink occasionally. It was a habit that he had not indulged in before. But with tho Kid's departure to the south something seemed to have gone out of Regan's existence—: companionship which had meant mo;e to him than anything else in the wh-ilc world. Once the Kid sent a postcard. "Greetings from me and Rose," it read. "Your old pal. Kid Mason." And as George scanned it he raised a glass from which he had been imbibing liquor. "Here's to you, Rosie," he toasted. "You're a better man than I am." At that very moment, over a thousand miles away, Kid Mason was engrossed in conversation with a bell-boy of the sumptuous hotel at which he was staying. "It's like I said," the Kid was telling the lad, "it ain't easy—see? You got to train hard and live clean. You got to take a lot of hard knocks. But if you're on tho iip-and-up about this " "Oh, I am, Mr. Mason!" the boy assured him eagerly. "Geo, I don't know what I wouldn't do to become a real fighter—I mean a fighter like you! A champ!" Rose, appearing at that juncture, the Conversation was interrupted. When the bell-hoy had gone she remonstrated with the Kid. "Dearest," siie appealed, "how many times must I ask you not to be familiar with the hotel staff?" "Y'eah, I know," the Kid protested. "But that boy's been fightin' amateur, and he looks pretty good " "But you forget you're the champion now, dear," Rose argued. "You're a big man—you're important!" ■rho Kid looked pleased, and adjusted his tie with a gesture that was almost 'm"g "Yeah, I g"e== you're right," The b^ow was hardly struck ere the Kid regretted it. July Uth. 193U