Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1926-07-25

scales again. The KEARNS.
F'renchman was
raving mad by this time, but what
could he do about it? Watson had
made the weight right before his
eyes-yes, and before the silver dollar
pieces had taken it on the roll. 1t
was one Of the funniest experiences
1 had in the land of the Kangaroo. I
didn't lose my $500 forfeit, a lot Of
dough in those days, and Red won the
fight, knocking the Frenchman kick
ing in few rounds.
/ don't tell this story to prove that
I'm a wise guy but only to illustrate
the necessity of always being a jump
or two ahead of the other fellow. 1t
is part of the racket. You had to be
on your toes, especially when your
stable was one-quarter ability and
three-quarters ballyhoo. If the
F,renchman could have put one over
on me he would have done it. Des-
camps didn't mind trying 1t whenever
ne could and Quandou's manager was
no different.
To this day 1 can hear that little
crowd of Frenchmen belly-aching
about the scales. They put their heads
together and chartered like parrots.
But when 1t came down to cases, they
were as hungry for the purse as we
home. And money, even in Australia,
does considerable talking.
Murray Hit of Troupe.
Billy Murray was the hit Of my
troupe of course. He was a. Portu-
guese and had all the quaint conceit
of that race. He loved to strut. He
was killing. He wore a monocle and
he was dead ON the level with it. He
thought it part of the picture. He
spent most of his money dolling HIM
self out IN the height Of Australian
fashion. He swung a cane and there
were no gloves yellow enough for
him.
He would have made poor Battling
Sikh turn green with envy. He dressed
for dinner and when he went to the
opera he wore the soup and fish, top
per and boiled shirt. They liked him,
though I'll say that some of the Irish
looked on that monocle with consid-
cradle suspicion. l fancy that had
he not been a pretty darned good
fighter many Of the natives would
have taken a sock at his Widowed
eye.
He was a riot wherever he went.
The sporting editors took me up
and some of them took me down Es-
pecially Major" one of the leading
writer's of the country. He had never
known ballyhoo at it's balliest and he
began to write me ragged. AT least
he thought he was doing SO. He only
stirred up old Bill Corbett, his hated
rival and q thorough newspaper man.
Bill was with me and my little army
of fighters. Major" was against us.
l was sitting pretty, in the middle
of their fight. l didn't care what the
Il Oh, fieY11f
The more he said the greater my pub
licity, for Corbett famed the Kearns
end of it and they began to believe me,
whether they wanted to or not.
When | got to telling the newspaper
boys that fed my men raw meat and
picked their faces in Texas beef brine,
l smoked the Major" to a thousand
per cent. He got to characterizing US
as Yankee swine" the best proof in
the world that we had him winging.
He was looping them from the floor
now, but it was all in the game. They
wanted me to fight him duel with
horse pistols, hayhooks or bolo guns
and it took some tall old stalling on
my part to make the fans believe that
was really going through with it.
Major Really Booster.
My only fear was that the Major"
would drop me like hot brick and
that Bill Corbett's plant would burn
down. I never had ,got into a nicer
ballyhoo spot. A man couldn't have
wished for more had he a champion or
two in his stable. Major" had not
learned the lesson of real ballyhoo
that a knock is g. boost and a boost is
a knock, but well mixed UP, ballyhoo
at it's best.
I couldn't have asked for better
straight men than Billy Murray and
Red Watson. OF course, Red wasn't
for the dude stuff. He didn't have
quite the gall of Murray. The Portu-
guese lived the life of Reilly. Crowds
followed him around the streets. II
there was a great commotion at
principal street crossing, you found
Billy Murray's canary-colored gloves
or one of his neckties.
All this time the fans were. writing
into Corbett and Major" some
against the Kearns outfit, others
strictly for us. My part of the bust
ness was to keep these. factions as
FAR, apart as possible, and when any
of my fighters came to the ring, you
could bet that they'd all be there,
some to root against and some to
root for US, but happily though, all
having paid for the privilege.
III Was part Oh the UuSlISSS u bC-
ing a Snowman and having learned
1t all from my barroom schooling to
the advanced theories of P. T. Bar
mum himself, Jared rather well.
I kept Major" steamed up to the
boiler explosion point all the time I
was in Australia. l used to burn
him up when I'd come in, slap him
on the back and sit on the edge of
his desk to broadcast the latest
achievement of Billy Murray, Red
Watson or some new wonder that /
was going to import from the States.
He couldn't get me at all and | was
happy over his bullheadedness. He
had decided to dislike me and my
stable and thank the gods he never
changed in that respect I was
always good for a yard or two of
copy while his peeve was on. He
was one of those peculiar souls who
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