Battle in Baden-Baden

In Baden-Baden, Germany, the kings gathered for their last stand. Some in black, some in white, their swart or pallid queens beside them, they saw their knights sally into the ruffle and broil of the encounter to win a momentary conquest, or to fall, dying the death that is reserved for privilege in defeat. It was a lean day that did not see a dozen monarchs overcome. Upon the neat battlefields, the gods of the nations were at war: Sir George Thomas for England, Spielmann for Austria, Rosselli for Italy, Jacques Mieses for Germany, Colle for Belgium, Alexander Alekhine for Russia, Niemzowitsch for Denmark, Richard Reti for Czecho-Slovakia, Frank J. Marshall for the U.S. and twelve more who had qualified for the International Chessmasters' Tournament.

Minds battled like searchlights fencing in a night sky. Reti of Czecho-Slovakia, who can play 25 games blindfolded, made an "oversight" which cost him a game in a few moves. Marshall of the U.S. held his own. But there was one man who played as if an immobile, enormous shape, looming unseen behind him, directed with Gargantuan fingers the movement of his smaller hands upon the Lilliputian kings. Once, it is true, he made a misplay, uncovered his queen. The watchers sucked in their breath. Surely now this Merlin was done for. But his opponent, Spielmann, did not see the opening; the next move set it right. He was safe, and so he stayed until the last day. Then it was found that Marshall of the U.S. had tied for fifth place; that a Ukranian, Boguljubow, had taken fourth, Saemisch of Germany third, Rubinstein of Poland second, and this undefeatable one, Alexander Alekhine of Russia, first. His victory makes him unquestionably the logical challenger of the world's chess champion, Jose R. Capablanca of Cuba.

Senor Capablanca, secure in his title, remained far from Baden-Baden.