Evening star., 1926-11-14

| iilciil-Iuc udWH OI ToIIldiltlC lUOidtIy
The cupids bow Of mouth parted,
and Miss Betty Boland stared straight
into the eyes of Johnny Mckinney.
Down went Johnny for the count, and
! he was out so long thereafter, that
| many things happened in the interim
events that were not recorded in the
Queensberry yearbook. but which had
an important bearing on Johnny Nc
| Kinney's subsequent climb toward the
welterweight title.
HE was very proud of his beautiful
wife, and pathetically anxious
that the entire world should share
his admiration.
"Betty's a lady" became his shibbo-
leth; and night and day he dinned it
! into Jockeys ears. 1t was his answer
| to all things.
"Betty's a lady" he insisted, land
she's entitled to the best in the land
| for having married a roughneck like
me. Honest now, Jockey-ain't l the
lucky stiff"
law. dry up" snarled the midget.
| you've been taking too many
punches on the bean. I amt sayin'
/ nothin' about Betty--shes cute kid,
and don't blame you for falling: but
what's theN idea Of giving out bread
checks to the whole family?"
Kid Mckinney glared at his mana
ger. "Aint 1 said she was a lady?
You don't know what that means.
| She was brought up by her folks, and
/ she loves em, and wants to treat 'em
right. She amt like a. lot Of other
! girls that get too good for their par
ents. Anyway, l never had any folks
since l was years old"
| Well, you sure got a sweet collec-
| ton now.' sighed Jockey. Free
parkin' privileges for papa, mamma,
and Brother Bill!''
But they amt Twin with me. I'm
livin' with them. It's Betty's home I
moved into"
Whats the difference?" protested
Jockey. You're payin' the bills, amt
you? And the cuts gettin' bigger
every month! Boy, it's gonna take a
lot Of wallops on the chin to support
! at gang"
Johnny snarled at him: Never
mind about that; I'm takin' the
punches, not you! All you gotta do
is make the matches. Get me?"
Sure 1 get you" retorted his
manager. And some day I'll get
you with a blackjack right behind the
ear! You're too dumb 20 live! I'm
matchin' you with Benny Sharpe for
the twenty-eighth, and you better get
yourself a rubber helmet
| What for?"
SOS he don't bust all the ivory in
your skullv'
I'll take him in the first round"
said Kid Mckinney.
| And take him he did. with shoulder
muscles stretched like q steel bow and
a right glove that crashed against
his mark like a thunderbolt In that
terrific cross was Johnny McKinneys
! nF 10 iy,ep f,,x. hp,@ %Ioa
feet of Betty, the lady. Other victo-
ries followed--some of them easy.
some Of them that snapped his young
| vitality, f1attened his ears into un-
| lovely patterns, broke repeatedly the
! bridge Of his nose, opened old gashes
over his eyes and banished forever
his hope Of looking like a gentleman
A pug he was, and his physiognomy
advertised his trade. But the crowd
loved him, and the money poured in
money that was employed to meet
family demands that grew ever
larger.
Not too much blame should be
placed on the slender shoulders of
| Mrs. John Aloysius Mckinney. to
whom the role of Eady Bountiful had
a manifest appeal. Nor were the
Bolands, father, mother and brother
altogether without conscience. They
merely drifted complacently into a
| rort of luxurious ease.
| Old man Boland withdrew from his
| plumbing shop, complaining Of rheu
matism. His ailment did not pre-
vent him from sporting good clothes
| and the general air of retired
| capitalist.
! And young Billy Boland-a pool
room sheik if ever there was one
basked in the reflected glory of the
| Kid. exacted daily contributions from
! his mother and sister, and spoke
! plaintively of lung affection that
nothing could cure-nothing, sug-
gested Jockey Williams, save a swift,
| kick. The Kid rebuked him severely:
| He's her brother, amt he? Well,
then, close your trap! Think l want
my wife to be stingy with her own
brother-a guy that's sick? Betty's
n lady, and"
"Thatll do" said Jockey Williams.
| II give up"
RETTY was lady in jewels and
AZ furs, and Johnny Mckinney had
elevated her beyond his station In
| life, He had fashioned a gorgeous
creature that he could now only wor-
ship at distance. And he had urged
| her forward to his own undoing.
More and more they drew apart.
| and for reasons that were not UNI
natural. Dancing was not among the
accomplishments of Johnny Nc
Kinney. and night hours We're for
hidden to a boy who must keep in the
took him from his home, and ring
engagements detained him further,
because he waited until the scars Of
battle had healed before Venturing
| into the presence of Betty, the lady.
Even then, he skunk into his home,
| self-conscious and awkward. keenly
| aware of the contrast he presented
to those with whom his wife seemed
| SO much at ease.
ways the same: Happy, Babe? Any
thing you want? Things breakin' all
right?'
| Nor did her replies vary greatly:
well Daddy, you know me. Every
| things lovely. but I could stand a
new dress, and the folks will he mar
ried % years tomorrow. Ia like
"Oh. sure" he assented. wen
have TO do something. Whatll it be-"
Il think a dinner dance would be
the right thing" Betty decided. Il
can give it at the club without any
bother. Fix everything over the
phone. Ma loves to dance. She's
become a regular old sport! &.
Oh. / forgot! You're going south
tonight. aren't you?"
| Yeah" he sighed. Benefit bout
| for Pop O'Neil's widow. Jockey
| thought l ought to. Pop gave most
Of US boys our first chance. Grand
old promoter in his day, but they
| cleaned him before he died. Never
| mind, Baby; you give the folks a
good time, and tell 'em I'm sorry
can't be there S'long. sweetie!"
Poor old hon!" she whispered.