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Oogie Finds Love.
by Berkeley Livingston.
It took a fierce battle with the prehistoric Cro-Magnons, and a modern wrestling match with the Russian Bear, before Oogie, the Caveman, finally won beautiful Sala for his woman
[Ill.u.s.tration: From the caves men appeared, dragging after them the women who had been clubbed into submission]
"Kill him...!" "Moider 'im...!" "Tear his arm off!" The cries and shrieks and boos and confusion were general throughout the auditorium, and the tenor of them was about the same, that the Russian Bear should be annihilated. Alas for the public's pleas. Oogie the Caveman was underneath, and already the referee was on his knees, his head bent almost to the canvas, his nose almost touching the muscled shoulder of Oogie who was underneath the Russian Bear. The two wrestlers were almost in the center of the ring and the nearest of the spectators was some eight feet off. The front row could see the lips of the ref moving but none could hear the words, nor even imagine. For what the ref said, was:
"Boss wants to see you after the match...."
Oogie rolled a face toward the ref upon which was writ the tortures of the d.a.m.ned, and blinked his right eyelid. Then the ref slapped the Russian Bear on the shoulder and the match was over....
"... Hi boss," Algernon Allerdyce called in greeting. His nose sniffed appreciatively at the aroma of coffee.
"Hi Oogie," Sam Grogan replied without turning from what he was doing, lifting the cover of the percolator on the electric plate. "Squat Oog," he directed. "This is just about done. Be with you...."
The fragrant aroma of Mocha, Java and Brazilian coffee beans, ground, mixed and blended until they had achieved a perfect harmony, perfumed the air. Two cups, saucers and spoons lay on the desk. Beside them was a bottle of brandy. Oogie and Sam shared the same vice, _coffee_.
Sam did the honors, and after both men sniffed with the deepest delight of the brew, he leaned back in his chair and regarded the muscular man at his side with both affection and speculation. After all, Algernon Allerdyce, known to the wrestling public as Oogie the Caveman, had been Sam's own discovery, and he was proud of it.
A flashback of memory brought a clear picture to Sam's mind: A huge bulk of a man whose face could have served as a model for the drawing of _Pithecanthropus Erectus_, entering his offices at the old Hippodrome Building. The wonder he felt at the gentleness of the voice, as the stranger asked:
"Sam Grogan?" And at Sam's nod, "I'm here in answer to the ad you had placed in the _Sun_...."
That had been the beginning of a strange and very profitable friends.h.i.+p. For Grogan had advertised for wrestlers and Allerdyce had been the first of those to answer. It was Sam who gave him the name of Oogie the Caveman. As such he had achieved fame around the wrestling circuits, fame and fortune. Sam had learned many facts in the life of Allerdyce during the three years of their a.s.sociation. How when Allerdyce was fifteen a truck had struck the bike he was riding and hurled the unfortunate boy into a tree which mashed his face to a pulp. How the family had brought the injured youth to a famous plastic surgeon who had performed surgery on him. The next day it was found the surgeon was insane, and had been insane when he performed the plastic work on the boy. The result was the ape-like face he had given him.
"... Oogie," Sam said from the depth of his introspection, "I've got news for you...."
Allerdyce took another appreciative sip of the brew before bending his attention to the other. And then it was only with lifted brow and questioning eyes.
"... The Big Deal we've been waiting for is on the fire," Sam said.
"At last, eh?" Allerdyce said.
"Yep! The big clean-up! A hundred grand guarantee plus a percentage.
It will mean at least two hundred thousand for you...."
Allerdyce's lips twisted in a smile though to the casual observer, those lips seemed to snarl. "I can't say I won't be glad that this long grind is over. Three years of this fakery is enough to try the soul of a saint. But now that the goal is in sight I can only feel a sort of fear that maybe...."
Grogan knew what the other meant. For on that afternoon, long, long gone, Allerdyce had told him why he had answered the ad. It was to achieve enough money to permit the building of a dream, a laboratory of research in plastics. For Algernon Allerdyce had graduated _c.u.m laude_ from one of the finest technical schools in the country, his heart set on research, but with his goal closed to him because of his fearsome appearance. He had tried time and again to enter any of the phases of his calling but after the first interview there had never been a second. Sam Grogan had shown him how enough money could be made at wrestling to do what he wanted to. Allerdyce had not always been Oogie the Caveman. Once he had been billed as The Gentleman Grunter, but laughter had only greeted his appearance. As Oogie, he looked the part and the fans had never failed him.
"So don't go soft now!" Grogan said sharply. "It's in the bag, kid...."
Allerdyce leaned back and the chair creaked loudly at the unexpected movement.
"What's the set-up, Sam?" he asked.
"The whole troupe goes; the Bear, the Irishman, the Masked Marvel and all the others. London, Paris, Berlin, Moscow.... Yep, Oog, all eighteen of us on the European circuit.... Hey! What's wrong?"
Grogan had observed the darkening thunderhead of a frown on the wrestler's forehead.
"Sam, this may sound a bit childish because the whole thing is childish, but I don't like Ed Finster.... Now wait! I know we've been packing them in with our act, the Russian Bear and Oogie the Caveman.
But Ed's been taking the deal a little more seriously than it warrants. Like tonight. He threw a double hammer on me and _really_ used pressure. Nor was tonight the first time.
"A week ago in Omaha he almost tore my ears off with a headlock...."
Sam Grogan beamed. Allerdyce didn't know it but Sam had been the motivating force behind the grudge which had developed between the two men. Finster had complained one night that the public didn't like him, said that the name he had been given made them mad. Sam had mentioned the name was Oogie's idea. Finster then took personal exception to it and made a personal issue out of it. So the grudge begun in jest developed until it was noticeable to the rest of the troupe.
Grogan chuckled and in a few words made clear how the thing started.
But the smile was wiped from his lips at Allerdyce's words:
"Too late now, Sam. I'd just as soon forget it but not Ed. He's got that excuse for a brain thinking the whole thing is real. I'd suggest you get to work on him before it's too late altogether...."
"That bad, huh? Maybe I'd better straighten the yuk out...."
Flight 243 was well out over the Atlantic, thirty thousand feet below.
The super-cruiser _Orion_ of the _TWP_ lines held a full complement of pa.s.sengers among whom was the wrestling circus of Sam Grogan and his partner Algernon Allerdyce, more affectionately known to the wrestling public as Oogie the Caveman.
The hour was for sleep and everyone but two were observing it. These two, Allerdyce and Finster, were in the lounge, playing gin. Finster had challenged Allerdyce to a couple of games to pa.s.s the time. But those two games had long been played. Finster played a wild and woolly game, never remembering discards, or trying knocks when they would be to his advantage, but always playing for gin. So it was that Allerdyce had won almost every game. And since they were playing for a cent a point, Finster was out money. That was why they were still playing while the rest had gone to bed.
"... I'll knock with two, Ed," Allerdyce said.
"Now why the h.e.l.l didn't you give that ten!" Finster yelled. He held up the discard and looked at it with savage eyes. "That would have ginned me...."
Allerdyce shrugged his shoulders and replied:
"That's what I figured. Well, Ed, let's call it quits, huh?"
"Sure! Call it quits when you got me stuck for dough. But that's the way you operate. Why you yellah...."
It was at that instant the horror descended on the _Orion_. There was a screaming cacophonous whirlwind of sound, a shriek of metal parting, flames suddenly bursting into full bloom, and the thin voices of men and women in mortal fear. Above all there was a _whoos.h.i.+ng_ noise, as though a giant hand was gripping them. Finster and Allerdyce felt themselves lifted from the depths of the s.h.i.+p and plunged into a maelstrom of storm in s.p.a.ce.
For a full ten seconds Algernon Allerdyce looked into the face of terror beyond words, then unconsciousness descended on him....
The air was hot and damp and the slight breeze which fanned his cheek was of little solace. Allerdyce turned his head from side to side; a quiver stirred the heavy frame of his body, and awareness came in a rush to him as he opened his eyes. He sat erect and looked about him.