Bisbee daily review., 1920-11-17
French and Jack Doyle Ought
 to Put Up Good Mill to Settle Telegraph Fight Over George
BY KID UNDERWOOD

1 According to talk around the tea tables at Naco and Agua Prieta it i, is doubtful if there will be another 1 boxing card put on in Bisbee for at | least several weeks.
 The thing that put the crimp in boxing for the time being seems ru have been the action of a California lad named George something brother sometimes known under the explosive alias of Dynamite" who made his appearance shere Armistice Day and then beat hasty retreat back to the land of prunes.
 And. anent, about and referring to the unexplosive Dynamite George there hangs a sad tale of telegraph i tolls threats, accusations and every other modern thing except war tax. Starting in at the end of the tale, 1 we suggest that O. s. French, the Wumpus Cat of Brewery Gulch, and , Jack Doyle, the Vernon Curly Wolf, (weights undetermined,) be matched up for ten-round bout in Bisbee. Would it be a fight?
 My son, that's a foolish question. mil between Frenchie and Jack Doyle would make memories of the Loughery-C Celmars clug-fest, even, turn pale and fade away.
 A Sad, Sad Story, Mates
 Brother French and Comrade Doyle love each other just like a bootleg ger is consumed with affection for a prohibition agent The reason for this burning bond of affections is none other than the celebrated California pugilist: Mister Dynamite George.
 And now: on with the first act.
 One day last week, Thursday to be exact, Mister Dynamite George step- ped into the ring at the Grand thea ter before about 800 fans, all of whom were laboring under the im- pression, received at cost of from one to three fish, that they were about to witness ten rounds. or less, of fast milling between MT. George land MT. J. Celmars.
 MT. George and MT. Celmars were apparently in first-class conditions. Mir. George registered extreme confi- dence. 1.-the and sinewy, the muscles on his manly shoulders and arms rip pied with every motion like-well, anyway, they sure did ripple. MT. Celmars' map of Ireland expanded in large and commodious grins. For two rounds there was nothing to ind;caIe that the fight would not develop into a real spiffy one. Then MT. Celmars rudely jammed one of his bread hooks in the general direction of the Dynamite boys face. The Dynamite failed to exlode. Nay, nay, anc exc, forsooth-he merely smiled, threw up his hands and quit
 I've got enough, my jaws broken" :" he informed everybody.
 The first part of hls statement l wasn't hard to believe, but tne last | seemed open to debate.
 ''Wots that?" inquired Mr. French 1 curious-like.
 MT. George again smiling explain | ed that his jaw was brokeh.
 The crowd walked out disgusted | MT. French stayed close to George, | even more disgusted.
 An Dynamite Went Homo
 What Mir. George managed 10 get l for his dancing exhibition is matter | between himself and Mir French. Nay | be he didn't get anything, which was about ten cents more than he should | have received.
 That night MT. George wended his | way back to Californy.
 When he reached the old hum town | he found that telegram from French | had landed there first. The message | conveyed the information to Waiter | Abbey, of the Western Athletic Club, | that MT. George was a large, juicy |