Indianapolis Times, Volume 45, Number 157, Indianapolis, Marion County, 10 November 1933 — Page 35

NOV. 10, 1933

“THE PRIZEFIGHTER AND THE LADY” From th<-Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer Picture Starting Today at Loews Palace

CHAPTER TWO ‘Continued) "Why? Is the territory all surveyed? Claims staked out?" she regarded him severely a moment. "Did you peek through kevholes when you werp a little boy?" "Nope. I opened doors and went righ f in.” You better put on your sweater. It’s cold outside.” He stood up and took his sweater from a chair and flung it carelessly over his arm. "Don't worry about me. I’ve got plenty of insulation.” The girl looked over the swelling muscles of his torso appraisingly. ■•I guess you do need all that muscle at that, to carry around that head of vours!” "That's a pretty good brick to throw when a gal’s flat on her back.” That's when a gal's got to have seme good ones handy.’’ Steve hitched up hts trousers. Well, any time you want to be hauled out of another ditch, let me know,” and he turned to leave. The girl called impulsively, "Wait a minute 1 Aside from all the wisecracks. 1 really owe you something. What do you do? Where can I get he Id of you?” You’d like to do something for me?” He returned to her. Yes,” she said, cautiously. "Something. . ■ Ever see a prize fight?" "Not many good ones ” "Well, come up to the Harlem Heights Athletic Club this Friday night. I don't know how good it’ll be, but it'll be short, because some poor, unsuspecting guy is going in against me?” "Who’s you?” “Steve Morgan. 11l leave a ringside ticket. Will you come?” "Well. . . maybe. . "Good,” he nodded. I’ll see you Friday." and went out. a a a STEVE was in the dressing room of the Athletic Club, ready to go on for his fight. The promoter came up to him. “It’s all understood now. You stay in there for three rounds or you don’t get no dough.” He didn’t wait for any reply, and Steve turned on the professor. "So there is a catch to it! The price of whisky’s pretty tough these days. eh. and you'll take a chance on anything.” "Stephen. I will admit. ... I meant to explain. . . .” "So you were going to feed me to the grizzly bears for a case of booze! If it wasn't I could make use of my sixty bucks, Id let you down with a splash!” "You've got to stay three rounds, Stephen. This is no water-front brawl. It’s in a ring with Marquis of Queensbury rules. Your opponent is experienced, tricky—” "If the Maharajah of Brooklyn mode the rules, 111 follow em! Come on!” . As Steve walked down the aisle to the ring, he saw the girl of the phaeton car, in a gorgeous evening wrap, in the end seat of the first row. He stopped and grasped the hand of the man sitting just beyond her. "Well, well! How are you? The only worry I had was that you wouldn’t come! You're more encouraging than a shot in the aim! Do you know that?" a m a ••wwthy, uh • . .” said the man, W surprised out of his wits, while the young woman, knowing that the words were meant for her, smiled down into her lap. • I'll make this as short as I can," continued Steve, as the Professor urged him to hurry, “then we’ll have a long, quiet talk.” He left the man staring at him in amazement, the girl smiling in quiet understanding, and climbed into the ring. His opponent, a big man wearing a black bathrobe was already in his comer, raising his hands in response to a great cheer that went up. "Ladies and gentlemen!” shouted the announcer. "The special bout of the evening! Ten rounds! Be tween the well-known, slashing heavyweight. Hammer Jackson two hundred and four—and Steve Morgan, one hundred and ninetythree flat!” The crowd yelled: "Where’d he come from? Don’t let him kiss you, Hammerl Oh. Mr. Morgan, yoohoo!” "Listen, fella.” said the referee, "we got to put on a good show. When you go down I’ll give you the slow count. —get me?” "Swell —great,” said Steve, waving him away. The bell rang and Hammer Jackson rushed from his corner and connected with a couple of smashes to the head and nbs of Steve who had been looking down at the girl in the gorgeous evening wrap. Steve took another blow to the chin, another to the body, but he only grinned enigmatically. His right arm was cocked but he did not even make a pass. Two more terrific smashes failed to rock him and he advanced slowly toward his opponent. Hammer connected again—two times, three times. Steve shook his head, grinning and advancing, but a glint had come into his eyes. After several more blows on the chin, the fighters went into a clinch. "That's right we'll just coast along for a while.” Steve winked at Hammer, who glared at him 'and wrestled himself out of the clinch. Hammer struck again, landing a left and a right and the crowd yelled for the kill, howling with derision and dol'ght. Hamtner swung again, but Steve ducked, weaved and uncorked a sledge-hammer right to hts opponent’s chin. Hammer fell swiftly and stiffly over backward. The crowd’s yelling died out. The referee began to count slowly. puzzlPd. After "ten!" he walked over to Steve and held up Steve's hand. •Professor. I think we've got something there." said the promoter. "There Is the next champion of the world!" said the Professor in a quiet, dazed voice. CHAPTER 111 THE professor, his eyes shining. got up suddenly amid the crowd’s acclaim for the unknown fighter. "Young Gaffney broke through his tombstone tonight! My boy s come back to me!” He struggled through the mass of excited and still yelling humanity, after Steve, who had stopped in the aisle to speak to a girl in evening wrap. The promoter tagged after him saying: ‘‘Now wait a minute, Professor.” "Come on," Steve was saying to

i the girl who was smiling up at him. i They fought their way down the ! aisle. Steve took her into a little ! areaway in the tunnel to the dressI ing rooms and there turned to confront her. She held out her hand. "You're pretty good, Morgan. Good-bye.” He ignored the outstretched hand. "I'll be dressed In three minutes. You wait and figure out what we 11 do after.” Her hand was still extended. "There isn’t going to be any after, Morgan. I’ve a taxi waiting.” The excited professor overtook them. "Stephen, my boy, your rubdown and shower. Madame, you must realize—” "Beat it, professor. I’ll be along } in a minute." a a a THE girl flicked a drop of sweat from Steve's nose with a little j handkerchief. “You go along and i take your shower. Morgan. I’ll look ; for you in the papers. Good-by.” ! She hurried down the corridor with a semblance of flight in her gait. A 15-year-old boy stopped to look j admiringly at Steve in passing. “Hey, want to earn a dollar?” At the boy’s eager nod, Steve said quickly: “Go find out what address that lady gives her taxi” "You betcha!” said the boy, and was off. / * The professor awaited him in the dressing room. He got up eagerly. "Stephen, my boy, I've gone back thirty years” "Sure you haven’t gone back thirty drinks?” laughed Steve. “I’m forgetting all that, boy, just as you must forget everything now that interferes with your career.” "So, I’ve got a career, have I?” a a a THE professor pushed him down on the table. “A glorious career! The greatest career since Young Gaffney. You’re a champion —rougheut, unpolished, not the proper setting—but a champion nevertheless. You and I are going a long, brilliant path. But there’s one thing we’ve got to settle right now' —that female. "She’s not for you for two reasons. First, a woman around an up-and-coming young fighter is like a maggot in a beautiful red apple. And second, she belongs to the toughest character in this town— Willie Ryan.” "You mean Ryan, the trigger fella?” He chuckled at the professor’s nod. “No kiddin’?” "I'm not inhuman, Stephen. I’ll apportion you your women when the time comes, just as I'm going to tell you what you're going to eat and w’hat you’re going to drink and how much you’re going to sleep, and how and when you're going to train. That’s all in my hands. And this girl is the first case. Is she out or isn't she?” The boy he had sent to get the girl's address hung about the dressing room door. Steve put a finger to his lips and nodded to the boy to wait outside. "Okay, Professor, she’s out.” Steve smiled to himself. “But say, if you’re going to apportion my life like that, how about apportioning me that sixty bucks?” "It’s here, Stephen. You'll have it when you're dressed. And remember—save your money.” a a a WILLIE RYAN, a comparatively young man neatly dressed in dinner coat, sat at the desk in his office at the cabaret of which he was the proprietor, a telephone receiver at his ear. Opposite him sat a weazened, gray-haired, jockey-type little man know r n as the Adopted Son, w'hose slate-blue eye* glittered as he listened. "Yes, yes. I know she was there,” Willie was saying, "but w'hat was the fighter’s name? . . . Morgan, eh° Never heard of him . . . “That’s all.” He hung up, stared at the wall, and muttered: “Steve Morgan.” At his w'ords the Adopted Son arose and looked at Willie as though awaiting orders. Willie shook his head slightly and said: "Don’t be silly,” as a boy -entered to announce : "Miss Ferber’s here. sir. She’s gone to her dressing room.” "Come in. Willie.” a voice called. When he had closed the door softly, she turned to him from her dressing table. "Hello. Mister. Did you think I had fallen down a drain?” Willie nodded and smiled. "Was it a good fight. Belle?” “Pretty short," said Belle Ferber, and turned again quickly, “Look here. Mister, you haven’t been havI ing any of your bird dogs follow me, have you?” He came close to her. “Since when this passion for palookas?” “Since I drove into the ditch at dawn . . . Let’s forget it. Willie. He | did me a favor and in return I went up to see him fight. And if there ever was a balloon-headed, fresh- | lipped, puff-chested specimen, he’s it." a a a RYAN took her arms and turned her about to face him. “I can’t really kid about this!” "I never have. Willie. If this had ever happened to me before, you know you’d have known about it. "I’m sorry. . . . This is getting a little nutty. How about taking your girl friend home tonight and continuing the discussion there?” “All right." She patted his I shoulder affectionately as he left to | enter the cabaret. They made their way to a table ! where the Adopted Son sat with ! two middle-aged, sharp-looking men. ; The men stood up and Willie introi duced them —Sid Munsey from Chicago and Georgie Lyons from Philadelphia. Belle threw a kind word to their towns, nodded at the Adopted Son. and sat down, i The cabaret was evidently one of the city's smarter establishments, with the same neat dignity of dec- ; oration that distinguished Willie's | private office. "You know,” said Willie, “since I sold out my piece in the champ : I've been looking for anew heavyi weight to back. Belle s just been ! doing a little scouting for me." He broke off at the sound of an I argument a short distance away. The i headwaiter was barring t-he progress of a well-set-up young man in a sack suit. "I'm sorry. It's a striot i* rule. You must be in a dinner coat.” a a a WHAT for?” said the voice of Steve Morgan. "I don't want any dinner. Just a couple of drinks.” He caught sight of Miss Ferber. saluted her with an eastsmile. "Just put me in a corner anywhere.'* I (To Be Continued)

OUR BOARDING HOUSE

\AA WUA.TS THI*S YOU'RE- PW" ?W ME "CiACK OF THAT A BRIN6IN' HONA&2 A "BLACK EYE? \f I (SAVE NtXi— AND UALE / NOT SATISFIED^ITU TRVIN* TO 11 OF 31-75 I PAID YOU FOR If LOOK UKE ME, YOU RE EVEN /\ YOUR BLACK EYE THE ONE JEALOUS OF MY SHINER—*—SO L' \ I &OJ WAS INTENDED FOR l YOU <bO OUT AN COLLECT ONE )[ <t "YOU 0 ONE OF YOUR S 7o^uTsbvrTZiS, >rs 0 hoodcum ( A TfP? MOW'D YOU <SET IT RLY ■1- NOW, -DON T TEU. fAE YOU X[ T* "DEET YOIToWED w T~ : f • T Y. ,m „ ,r> v s EOT.orr ->~ -g .

FRECKLES AND HIS FRIENDS

B - - — ll 1 pi rAKI rnOTRAI IL/ jock SUTHERLAND uLbnn r\J\J\ DnLL famous p/ttcoach — =77 nl n!vr j , ~ , |i i LI OLDING according to .hr M code _ _ 0 ; f.he^co r ,.unfair and eW j UA77DCOOV —" I „ „ - / /n'ww--'.- — 1 ks/ow YOU WILL' CN T7\ mate* skill. The slowest man in the world J j *•*>->* r*ew.UUGM’ SNAP “** ,'IX U JL ■£?? s L Vc W.TK! Sow £. HuD/ teL !h„ „ T a. rj id held <— ■

Vi raoriINGTON TUBBS II

|l IV f \WM£T THE BltaDS WERE VOU OOIM6? \ AW, LK^ENTN PLAVIKJG POKER WITH THAT CREEP? ) EftSV. HE WAS :MI§PS feHfir IoW GIAMCE AT EASV's ANGRV COUUTE- : V-'maMCE AkJD MR. PIVE-ACES O'BRIEN ~ = ====r^,^jf WfgßP, V DECIDES TO CALL IT A p&Y. J , O Wfimpfr/ ( j ' \ J

ALLEY OOP

C //A” \u 'l C (YftBIO.HAIRV?) f K l MAMMOTH /;

BOOTS AND HER BUDDIES

.. ANO, WHWL WERE on i POOP no . AND HE WA<b DENOTED TO H YOU MONEY MATTEU'b, UNCLE [f iOHNNtE ••• L YOU '.AT ANY RATE ,HE LEFT OON’T TAE. \j NENEF GOT TO WHAT HE HAD TO ME •■•• NOT ■ MEAIO QOEbT\ON OF YOUR GEE H\M WNOVOIN6 ,OF COURSE .THAT \T ? I BROTHER, UNCLE X)HN BEFORE HE YOU WERE ALWE _ I

TARZAN THE APE MAN

I o'* - Y J*' ' DtSTRim?TBD‘BcSjE?BTOI*rrE‘irMTOR]t"BY>TOC , ATI ofc’yL. ,' \vl ■

When Tarzan loosed his grasp on Jean a moment, she managed to escape and scrambled up the river bank. There she turned and looked down at the ape-man in the water. Had she been nine years old instead of nineteen, she would have stuck out her tongue at him!

Shop and Save in .Our NoVGlTlbor Sale Downstairs at Ayres Bargains for Your Home and Every Member of Your Family! See Pages 2 and 3

THE PfWATCAjPOUE TIMES

“There!” she cried, elated. “Who was fooled that time?” • Tarzan beckoned her to come back, saying persuasively: “Jean! Jean!” Mockingly, she answered: “Come in there again? Me?" She shook her head, turned her back on him grandly and said over her shoulder: “Not for anything in the world!”

—By Ahem

OUT OUR WAY

fi A'/Vo avM / SMOOT ! \ ! WHY \ / I'M waitin' \ r'/\\7U V SHOOT! ! DON’T' TILL HE BATS \ ra |\ H goodnight- \ you his eves- 1 HI HE'LL G,T i LET I DON'T AWAV t him 1 WANT HIM Wm/l F(?OM YOU. ) i HAVE TO KNOW - ~ ' "the PERFECT CRIME O 1933 BY NCA SCRVICC. WC. RE& U S PAT. Off. IMQ J k. - -■ ■ ■" . - ■■ ■■ -----

/WHATf that gravel pit o' his?Y but i-i \ that was weeys ago! maw alive! do I A WWV, UOU SAP, DON'T YOU KNOW THOUGHT tT LHAVE TO GO THRU LIFE PLAYING NURSE TO HE'S BEEN TRVING TO PEDDLE WAS VALUABLE.] YOU? AREN'T YOU EVER GOING TO GET ANY THAT NO-ACCOUHT Goat PASTURE we ALL DID. V SENSE? BACK to CAMP .you IDIOT, BEFORE TO EVERYBODY in ALASKA *? 7/ X 1 THE DAYLIGHTS OUT V yTV c IBM B. WCA SCBV.CE -C h i j?

00 °Oo. /That Y f ~~ 0 / warrior \ i0 00 oouO T T r ß i°/ \

YES . ANO M NO NO, BILLY . 1 INOOLONT MORE REASON THAN ENER \MY BOY IYOORE A LARGE m THINW OF \T BESIDES, T WHY YOU SHOULD NAME \ ONE IN A SHARE OF Wf OOESNT MATTER. ABOUT \NHAT BELONGS TO YOU'. 1 THOUSAND-..A THAT \S 1 ME -...L'M GETTING I'll HAVE THE LEGAL | CH\F OFF THE RGHTFOLLV I ALONG IN YEARS. YOU SIDE OF ALL THAT \ OLD BLOCK ,

Scarcely had she uttered the words when, not five feet from her, looking out of the brush, she was confronted by the ugly and solemnly staring head of a gnu. She gave a loud scream anc? jumped from the top of the bank down into the water beside Tarzan again.

—By Edgar Rice Burroughs

At this, Tarzan was very much amused. Hf pretended he was going to push her out on tha bank with the gnu. Squealing, struggling, trying to cling to him, Jean cried: “No—no! Please don’t!” and finally, as Tarzan still pushed her from him, she screamed: “Please!”

PAGE 35

—By Williams

—By Blosser

—By Crane

—By Hamlin'

—By Martin