New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1921-07-03

man broke ground to utilize any pos
sible advantage he had in speed. But
it was too late.
The fine pair of legs that might have
been utilized to such good advantage
had this policy been adopted in the
| first round were unreliable now be-
| cause of the terrific body beating which
Carpenter had suffered.
There was no denying Dempsey now.
The lust of battle sparkled under his
beetling brow; the scent of blood was
in his nostrils. The champion bounded
after his stricken prey and crushed an
Frenchman's sore short ribs. Carpen-
tier attempted to stave off the inev-
table by clinching. But his hold was
feeble. Dempsey stood in close and
literally drubbed his man into a state
of Inconsistencies with a tattoo Of
short right and left hooks to the body.
The Frenchman broke away and
reeled back, glassy-eyed. 1t was with
great difficulty he held up his hands.
His eyes were glazed; his lower jaw
dropping piteously like that of
corpse, Dempsey measured his man
then shot out his right. Carpenter
fell in Just far enough to take the
wicked blow on the back of the head,
but there was so much behind the
punch one could imagine it ratified the
Frenchman's teeth.
Again the Frenchman automatically
fell into a feeble clinch and again
Dempsey beat him to a pulp with
wicked short arm jolts to the body.
The champion could feel his man
soften under. the blows. He stepped
back suddenly. and as he did he
whipped the right to the heart and
brought the left sharply-half hook,
half uppercut-to Georges jaw
Down went the Frenchman. He rest
ed, helpless mass, on his right side,
near the ropes of a neutral corner.
Referee Ertle began his fatal toll.
Silence as of the sepulchre fell with
the beginning of the count. One, two,
three, four, five-the seconds pealed
off in pendulum swing. Save for the
referees loud toll not a sound could
be heard but the sharp intaking of
breath to chests Of countless thousands.
1t seemed the supreme moment-that
moment for which the sport world had
been steeling itself, 10, these past seven
the referee. At the count of six Car
pentier pulled himself together; he
rolled on one knee and, with half fool
ish grin on his face, listened to the
count. AT eight he seemed steady, but
resigned
Nine" shouted Ertle. And with the
word the inert clay seemed electrified
and terminated. With catlike spring
the Frenchman bounded half way
across the ring at Dempsey. 1t was
strategy that might have taken one less
cool fighter unaware, but Dempsey was
prepared.
Carpenter sprang, determined to
crush down Dempsey under his leaping
right. He put the last ounce of his
waning energy into this desperate eff
fort. But the master was ready for
him.
Dempsey stepped in to meet the flying
target. Straight to the jaw the punch
travelled, the force of Georges cata-
putting body doubling its effect. The
blow which landed on the bottom"
seemed to travel only several inches,
but this time it dropped Carpenter as
II he had been shot through the head.
There he lay in the center of the ring
while Ertle this time tolled off the ten.
At eight" Carpenter tried to pull
himself together. At least his legs
moved. But the will was stronger than
the body. Carp" was counted out.
Dempsey, still champion Of the world.
though champion through that second
round by the margin of only one more
effective punch. looked pityingly at his
fallen adversary as Ertle slapped him
on the back in token of victory.
Then the champion stopped and
helped Gus Wilson pick up the fallen
gladiator and carry him to his corner.
Inc battle OF the century was one more |
chapter of ring history.