Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1931-10-04

countably She took a heSitant step in the
direction in which he had gone. But she
faltered, pausing irresolute, striving vainly to
remember her just cause for ire and to forget
the grizzly stricken look in Marshalls eyes.
Heber Denning was walking into the dining
room of the Eagle Hotel. AS he stepped for
ward, hand gripped his shoulder and spun
the obese manager around. JEFF Marshall was
facing him, still bone-gTay and starkly grim
Of visage q
Listen, you!" grated JEFF. Were you fool
ing, back there, when you said there was a
chance I could win pot Of real money and
wad of fame, if I'd sign up with you? If
you were, you're going out Of this hotel feet
foremost. Speak up!'
IT was in earnest all right" replied Dem
ming, uneasy at the others tone, yet thrilled
at the chance of having made so miraculous
a find. Sit down here with me- Well talk
it over. I'll give you try-out. If I'm wrong
about you, Ill send you back home with
enough money to pay you for your time. II
I'm right you'll go far. Sit down."
To JEFF Marshall the tawdry cottage rented
as training quarters by Denning was a miracle
Of gorgeous beauty and space. Even the barn,
fitted up as a gymnasium, seemed to him
cathedral-like in its vast spaces and cleanli-
ness. The mountain-bred youth was awed by
everything. sense of this chung to him
when he stripped, two mornings later, for his
first try-out.
Hidden no longer by his shapeless clothes,
his spare body showed up in a way to win
nod Of surprised approval from Denning Here
were no bullying Hercules muscles and lumpy
contours. But there were the long and grace
full sinews Of the tiger. Here too was the
tangle of smooth thews below the shoulder
blades whence comes vast hitting power.
Twice, perhaps in a century men are born
with this superhuman strength and with no
spectacular outer sign of its presence.
Ever boxed?" inquired the manager.
s"The county agent used to try to teach
how to, when I was q youngster," said JEFF.
And stuck to it longer'n most Of the other
lads. But those great big clumsy pillows took
most of the fun out of it. Bare hands Is
what folks are given to do their hitting with.
Not softy cushions"
IE eyed with open disfavor the boxing gloves
] which Devine and Cronan, the two
handlers, were taking out Of bag
Fists are best, all right" said Denning.
"But the law says you can't fight unless you
dress them up. No nude knuckles in the ring.
You can use these things as well as you could
use your bare hands as soon as you get the
hang Of them. Slip on this pair"
In the aggrieved soul Of JEFF Marshall-"the
very strong man, Kwasind"-burned agoniz-
ingly the memory Of the love he had lost and
his resolve common to every discarded sutton
since the birth Of time, to win wealth and
renown which should make his sweetheart rue
her cruelty. He set his teeth and worked his
unaccustoned hands into the impeding gloves.
"Cronan here Is going to box couple Of
rounds with you," explained Denning, as one
Of the handlers drew on the mates to Mar
shall's gloves. IT can see what promise you've
got by the way you can stand up to him. Just
forget all you know about kicking and kneeing
and gouging. Those things will get you
thrown out Of any ring. Hit above the belt.
Hit and keep on hitting. And protect your