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THE MAN WHO CAME BACK
By Frank Filson
(Copyright, 1916, W: -Gk Chapman.)
si i Five years had passed since Allison
took the count in the ring, conscious,
through a whirling fog, of the jeering
face of Bent above him. During those
five years Allison had passed from
twenty-seven to thirty-two, from af
fluence to poverty. He had supported
himself by fistic encounters with second-raters,
with third-raters; he had
coached cheap clubs, and he lived
with his wife and baby in a tene
ment. Allison had never known how it
happened. Five minutes before he
was the champion of the world in his
class, unsurpassed, netting twelve to
fifteen thousand a year. He and his
young wife, Molly, whom he adored,
lived royally. Molly, who came from
a higher stratum of social life, depre
cated, indeed, her husband's prize
fighting friends, but her gentle na
ture was incapable of resentment,
and when money comes in freely
somehow one does not care.
Then Bent, who had never made
any special snowing, had challenged
him. There was enmity between the
men. Allison had been winning in his
usual style until Bent got in that
solar plexus blow. After that things
began to go badly for Allison, and a
terrific right and left put him to
sleep. When he awoke the fight was
over.
He tried to come back, but they
never come back. Bent walloped him
again, and then others took a hand.
Allison went down and down. His
muscles were as taut, but his nerve
was gone.
The five years that followed were
a nightmare.
"Give up the game, Joe," pleaded
Molly. "The baby's growing up; she's
beginning to understand things. I
want her to be proud of her father."
The memory of the wasted money
1 haunted Allison. With five thousand
dollars now they could have that lit
tle farm far away. Nobody remem
bered Allison, for memory is short in
the ring; he had just disappeared, and
even his name only awakened a half
forgetful recognition.
And Joe could do nothing but box
and teach boxing. He had never
learned a trade. Since chance threw
him, as a little boy, into the company
of prize fighters, he had followed the
ring. And he knew, worst of all, that
he was just as strong, just as quick
as he had ever been. Even at thirty
two he knew that, given his nerve
Some of the Blows Told, Some Failed.
again, he could beat Bent, the arro
gant champion, who went up and
down the country, offering a stand
ing prize of a thousand dollars to
anyone who could stand up against
him for six rounds, .and five thou
sand for anyone who could win ten
rounds on points.
"If only you could get your nerve
back, Joe," said Molly.
"For one fight," answered Joe
grimly. "Just to win that five thou
sand and make a home for you and
Dolly," ,
