VERNONIA EAGLE, VERNONIA, OREGON
“Death’s Messenger”
He ir a talented boxer, perhaps
as superior In this line today as
Jack Johnson was 25 years ago.
He hits hard and accurately with
either hand. That the Baers, Car.
neras, Birkles, Pirones, Browns and
Lsvinskys he has battered were not
laid out cold as were various stal
warts upon whom Sam Longford
and Peter Jackson practiced Is not
a matter of particular moment. Al
though Louis seems to have more
love of, and Instinct for, fighting
than did the ex-marine, hie ring
tactics more closely resemble those
cf Gene Tunney than of any other
modern champion. And for all his
eminence, Tunney also was a fight
er who bruised and dazed his oppo
nents when a man of lesser skill
but greater power might have fin
©—WNU Service
ished them with one blow that
needed no referee’s count to prove
Because the lights make every Its worth and efficiency.
thing seem faster baseball scouts
Such are the facts that have been
claim that It Is Impossibls to get a
made plain about him while he has, <
line on a player by watching him
In a night game. . . . Jack Doyle, in such a short
the veteran Cubs scout, says that space and with
consummate
he must see a player In at least such
three day-time games befors for ease, been triumph
ing over Baer, Car-
warding a recommendation.
Shrewd horsemen are whispering nera and Levin
that heroin won’t show In a saliva sky. That the three
test no matter what track doctors of them, two for
may say about it—They also are mer champions and
whispering that — but perhaps It a man who once
would be a shame to disturb the was the sturdiest
hard working racing commissioners of also rans, could
with such news, so let it go. . . . not land a total of
Jos Louis
Although his ankles will not hold six punches on him
up under steady work, Woody Eng Is another previ
lish of the Cubs is rated as the ously unconsldered fact that may
best utility infielder In the National very well be acclaimed.
ger, and now to be thrown In with a pair of gangsters who threatened to
turn her house into a shambles.
When they arrived at her home she pleaded with them to wait
outside while she went In to see If everything was all right.
,
They agreed.
With her heart In her mouth, Kathryn hurried Into the house. To
her Intense relief, the baby was sleeping peacefully In bls crib—the old
man safely In bed In his room.
Kathryn locked him In, and resolved that she wouldn't leave the house
until he was safely on his way the next morning.
She went outside then—told the gangsters that everything
was all right, and added that she hoped God would bless them
for the good turn they had done her. Both the thugs looked sort
of stunned when she said that. Finally one of them smiled a bit
out of one side of his mouth and said:
“Lady, It’s a long time since anybody asked God to bless us. But
thanks, anyway. Maybe we’ll be needing it before the night's over.”
“And," says Kathryn, “maybe they did, too. Because the next day I
read of the holdup of a big lthode Island bank, committed by two men
who got away in a baby blue sport roadster."
By FLOYD GIBBONS
Famous Headline Hunter.
UT on your shudder bumpers, fellow adventurers. Here’s a
so weird and terrifying that you half expect old Doctor
P yarn
Fu Manchu himself to come walking into the picture.
You might look for something of this sort to happen In Oriental Ac
tion, but not to a South Boston housewife and her children In their own
home.
But take my word for It, boys and girls, It did happen—happened to
Mrs. Kathryn V. Shine of South Boston.
And here she Is to tell us all about it.
The Shine family had just finished their evening meal one
evening last August, when the doorbell rang. Kathryn Shine
opened the door and was confronted by an old man who asked her
if she had any chores he might do to earn a night's lodging.
And when Kathryn told him she didn't have any chores, his face took
on such a pained, disappointed expression that she told him she’d see if
she couldn’t put him up for the night
It Was a Queer Old Duck They Sheltered.
Kathryn asked her husband about it, and he told her to do whatever
she thought best. So Kathryn asked the old man In and prepared him a
hot meal, for which he thanked her almost too profusely.
After the dinner dishes were cleared away they all went Into
the living room to listen to the radio. The old man, by this time,
seemed to have made himself pretty much at home.
He even took off his shoes—a thing that Kathryn didn’t like very
much. But she said nothing for the old fellow was obviously tired.
As the evening wore on it developed that the old man was something
of a religious crank. He talked rambllngly and Incoherently on religious
subjects, and took especial Interest in the youngest of Kathryn’s seven
children, a fair-haired little boy.
The old fellow kept repeating over and over again that he
was “marked for God.”
In fact, he said it so often that Kathryn began to be disturbed
by it, and drawing her husband aside told him to lock the man in
his room when he went to bed that night
Along about 11 o’clock, Kathryn had to leave. She had a job that oc
cupied her from midnight until morning, and It was time to start for it
Kathryn Gets an Unusual Scare.
As she was leaving, she picked up a card she saw lying on the kitchen
table. She didn't look at it then—didn’t think of it until after she had
arrived at the place where she worked.
When she did look at it, though, she almost screamed aloud.
For crudely printed on one side of the card were the words,
“Messenger of Death."
Back to her mind, then, came the queer old man's repeated assertion
Crudely Printed Were the Words “Messenger of Death."
that her youngest child had been marked for God. She had to get back
home—Immediately—to protect her baby from this mad fanatic. But how
to do It?
That was the question. There was no telephone In her house. The
street cars weren’t running at that time of the night, and she had no
money with which to hire a taxi.
The only thing left to her was to make the long journey
afoot. She started out on a dead run, only slowing to a walk
when she was too winded to run another step.
She had gone but a few blocks when more trouble arose to add Itself
to her already crushing burden. As she was nearing Columbus Circle, two
rough-looking men In a sporty, baby blue roadster, drew up and accosted
her.
® New York Post—WNU Bervlce.
league. . . . Lloyd Greenamyre, who
Box Score Silent
on Chapman Yen
to Join Senators
HINGS ths box score never told
me;
Although he probably squabbles
more with the Senators than with
any other club, Ben Chapman wants
to be traded to Washington If the
Yankees decide to dispose of him.
. . . In the Pine Tree league, a
Maine semi - pro baseball circuit,
they pay the two umpires $25 but
the visting team gets only $15. . . .
Mike Phipps of Carnegie Steel and
the Guest brothers of Woolworth’s
will not play polo In Argentine this
winter “because they were not of
fered enough dough.” . . . The most
successful dog track In the coun
try probably Is at Revere, Mass.,
where the mutuel handle often ex
ceeds $100,000 a night One night
it bit $206,000.
T
Maerial, a two-year-old that has
earned $17,165 this season, cost
$550 as a yearling. . . . Teddy Boy,
bought for $11,500 at the same
time, is unknown to those who are
familiar with juvenile runners. . . .
That feud between the Dodgers and
the Giants does not stop with the
hired help on the field. John Gor
man and Eddie Brannick, the rival
traveling secretaries, never speak
to one another if conversation pos
sibly can be avoided. . . . While a
member of the Hakoahs In Vienna
Ernie Schwartz, now manager of
the New York Americans, played
soccer in 20 countries.
Bookmakers will tell you that
one of the nation's most eminent
political bosses has lost $200,000
a year betting on the races during
the past 20 years. ... He will, they
say. Invest $1,000 on almost any
kind of tip and is keeping up his
average at the New York meetings.
. . . The province of Quebec long
This Anti-Climax Was Almost Too Much.
has known how to handle the vex
She thought she was going to have trouble with them at first, and ing problem of what to do with
asked them not to bother her. But one of the men looked at her sharply wrestlers. . . On Sundays and hol
and said:
idays up there they perform along
“Look here—you're In a jam, ain’t you? Well, get In here and we'll the roads as comeons to attract
take you wherever YOU want to go.”
business to the hot dog and bever
Kathryn still didn't like ths looks of the men, but she just
age stands. . . Kostka, Minnesota’s
HAD to get home. She climbed In the car and started off. Hur
All-America back, who will play for
riedly, she told the men what it waa that wae worrying her, and
the Brooklyn pros this fall, was a
to her dismay saw one of them pat his chest where the bulge of
fiop as a baseball player at Day
an automatic showed under his armpit.
ton. Jim Bowdoln, who will ap
"Lady,” be said, “If that guy has done anything to your baby, you pear at tackle for the Dodgers, was
won’t need to call no police. We'll take care of him, pronto."
a very good umpire in the Middle
|
It was Just too much for Kathryn—first, the life of her baby In dan Atlantic league.
sells tickets for a Ringling Broth
ers side show, also acts as golf pro
for the circus performers. He has
75 pupils. . . . Although the pres
ent tennis scoring system has been
In use for centuries no one of the
game's historians has ever been
able to discover how It originated.
It’s Patrick You
Fans Can Thank
Lester Patrick, coach of the New
York Rangers, started the custom
of numbering players so that the
fans might recognize them more
readily. That was during the sea
son of 1911-12, when he operated
the Pacific Coast Hockey league.
... A few months later the first
college team was adorned with
numbers, Old Man Stagg doing the
job for his University of Chicago
eleven. . . City college (N. Y.) foot
ball players bruise easily and no
wonder. The ground upon which
they must practice and play Is so
bare of grass and packed so hard
that If one of them was to be
tossed upon a concrete floor he
probably would think he was land
ing In a feather bed.
• • •
CINCE It has been pretty well es-
^-7 tablished by sob sisters, people
who pay $100 for 30 cents’ worth
of cardboard entitling them to
perch In the twenty-sixth row, and
by other kindred boxing experts
that Joe Louis Is the greatest fight
er of all time, perhaps the subject
could very sensibly be ducked to
day. Yet, since the same well-in
formed proclaimers of pugilistic
gospel seek to prove their omnipo
tence by advancing the delightful
contention that Max Baer quit cold
at Yankee stadium, It Is possible
that some mature consideration will
do the whole business no harm.
Obviously Louis Is one of the
most gifted young men ever to re
ceive a $200,000 reward In this
racket that sometimes is known as
sport Also he has been magnifi
cently trained and the financiers
who handle bls affairs have done
so with rare skllL
Not Louis’ Fault
Talent Is Scarce
That Floyd Johnson, Soldier Bob
Martin, Bob Fitzsimmons, Jr., and
Jack McAuliffe, Second, were young
men of rare ability who received
high ballyhoo and then collapsed
when least expected need not be
advanced as an argument that some
day he may also blow up suddenly.
Neither is It necessary to point
out that probably all of these young
men beat better opponents than he
has yet faced. It Is not Joe Louis’s
fault that heavyweight contenders
are a dime a dozen now.
Like
Dempsey, Sullivan and those other
masters who preceded him he has
met the best that have so far been
available and has beaten them all.
A man can do no more.
What will happen when he has
outboxed, outsmarted and quickly
bowled over one or two more op
ponents and eventually gets around
to Jim Braddock Is something that
no one can decide at this distance.
I make only two predictions. One
of them is that Joe Louis then will
very well prove that he can take It
and return it after taking It. The
other Is that he will be meeting
a man as cold as himself, as una
fraid and, possibly, as well in
formed as to the value of a left
hand in winning prize fights.
Certainly Louis met no such man
upon his most recent outing. Baer
seemed dazed even .
before he was first
slapped upon the
lug. He performed
as a wide open tar
get, made no effort
to pick punches out
of the air save
with
his
chin,
seemed determined
from the start to
do as many wrong
things as possible.
Max Baer
That one of the
wrong things he
did was to quit deliberately on hie
kneee Instead of going out twing
ing la not suggested here, though.
Those who saw Carl Morris, Tom
Heeney and Jess Willard stand up
until their faces were crushed Into
pulpy black and blue masses per
haps are judges as to how long a
man can withstand fists that slash
at him relentlessly.
Yet such opinions can only be
thoughte without authority. No out-
eider le qualified to say what goes
on In the heads and hearts of those
who are Inside the ropes.