Nogales international., 1932-08-31
and here he might earn fifteen.

and here he might earn fifteen.
"But you got to win. Remember it.
John, you got to win to cop the big
money" John and Sol were being
pushed along a narrow aisle to the
ringside as Gilbert and the Judge took
their seats, chatting with the Nc
Manus. Blue smoke lifted in the air,
drifting in fiat wells like unsteady sau-
GERS of mist. A hum of talk rose be-
tween the scraps. 1t was a male audi
ence; it was a time OF lard heroic
fighting. A hush 80. over ,-.e nail as
the announcer ar.'earej. John had
climbed into the ring, and million
fierce little eyes, terribly close togcth-
er, in cairs, seemed to be boring at
him from all sides of an endless void.
Immediately about him, under
streaming light, was stark reality.
"The next hout, gentlemen, an l
hope it aViH be bout, there was a
slight rause filled with boos and jeers-
is between" and the stout man uadcr
the foodlight in the center of the ring
brought piece Of paper closer to his
eyes-"is between Rasper Jorgan," he
waved his hand toward corner of the
squared circle-a dark-skinned mus
cular youth rose to the introduction,
grinning at the crowd, known as the
'Pclack Wcnder,' and"-his other hand
pointed accusinsly at John Breen-
"and Fighting Lipvitch!" -
The fighters had their bandages ex-
amined. The gloves were adjusted.
The stools were pulled from the corn
crs. All but the referee left the ring.
The fighters shook hands. The gcng
sounded. They were off. shufling above
the resined canvas. The cold white
light pelted down on them Their bod
les glistened, like animated specimens
on some monster operating table The
calls of the crowd rose more violent
than ever. The Polacl Wonder was
picked to win. Cries of xii the zVkitc-
acdshed kyke! Knock his block off
Bust him up! Mir 'er! XIII him" in
terspersed with oaths, greeted the
senses Of John, reeling backward from
a hard blow on the nose. The warm
salty blood trickling over his lips,
sucking into his mouth, filled him with
an ungovernable rage Dancing before
his narrowed eyes he saw the thing he
was after, a cruel fighter who, in those
red moments, epitomized the enmity
of man.
During the first minute of the round,
as the fighters, by their actions. ~
veaied a lack of science many of the
audience turned their backs to the ring,
preferring to discuss matters Of great
er interest while awaiting the main
event of the evening, much touted
bout between third-rate heavies. But,
as the Raspcr drew blood, and the
fighting kyke showed spunk, the fans,
alert on the instant, turned back to the
ring The TERED seats and the gallery
bent over. glued to their chairs and
benches. The mephitic air, heavy with
stale tobacco and foul with the fumes
of whiskey breath vibrated under the
impact of tight fighting gloves putnrel
ing human flesh.
The Rasper landed again and again,
then John, seeing an opening, drove his
hard right to the chin and laid bare
the lower teeth Of the Polack. Dark
blood oozed from the cut lip in slug
gish stream. A quick left to the jaw,
partly blocked by the Rasper, spattered
blood over both fighters; the gong
sounded the end of the round Cheers
rose from the ringside. cat calls and
boos mingled with the din. The stamp