I tried to convince Max and Arthur that decisions in America were as fair as anywhere in the world and that he needn’t fear a “raw deal,” but I couldn’t convince Schmeling. Then I hit upon a bright idea. I called in John (Ike) Dorgan, my partner in _The Ring_ magazine which I started several years before. “Ike,” I said, “I want you to meet the next world heavyweight champion, Max Schmeling, and his manager, Arthur Buelow. They want me to take a managerial interest in Max, but you know I don’t go in for that. How about you taking over as his American representative. There’s 10 percent in it for you and no cost to yourself.” Dorgan was an excellent publicist. Previously I had turned over to him Charley White of Chicago when White was one of the nation’s leading lightweights. White had dropped his manager and had asked me to take over. Well, Dorgan had reaped a fortune with White and I figured he could make as much or more by representing Schmeling. But to my amazement, Ike laughed my suggestion off, turning away thousands of dollars as later developments proved. “Why don’t you go away, Nat,” he said. “Haven’t you given me enough headaches with one German?” He was referring to Ted Sandwina, son of the strongest woman on earth, who, with her husband, had come to America for a tour with the Barnum and Bailey circus. Sandwina was a pretty good heavyweight but because of several injuries, he flopped as an attraction in New York. I had met the family in Europe and had suggested that they bring Ted to America for a campaign and I had him sign with Dorgan. When Ike refused to take over, Schmeling was prepared to go back home. I tried once more. I approached Jess McMahon, matchmaker for Rickard, and asked Jess’ advice. “Turn him loose if he feels that way about our officials,” said McMahon. But I didn’t. For friendship’s sake, I decided on a ruse. I would agree to sign a contract but would not take a penny of Schmeling’s earnings nor share any of his manager’s portion of Max’s purses. The following day I called Buelow and Max to my office and there, with brother Harold acting as attorney, an agreement was signed giving me a ten percent interest in all of Schmeling’s earnings for a period of six years. Buelow and Schmeling were elated. I took them to Rickard where a contract for the Monte fight was signed. In that contest, Monte was knocked out in the fifth round and the press raved over the excellent performance of his conqueror. His climb to fame had gotten under way. Time passed and the wheel of circumstance spun around. Schmeling became a golden boy. He made good with a vengeance. He reaped a fortune. Then Joe Jacobs, aided by Pete Reilly and Billy McCarney, his partners, a trio of international boxing managers, weaned Max away from Buelow with fabulous tales of what they could do for him.