Life — June 25, 1925 — page 23: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

run off rapidly in opposite directions. “Stop!” cried Sam, who had been watching the bull suspiciously ; and like a flash he tackled the hind legs and sent them sprawling, revealing Mumps the toady. I always thought you were a little bully,” said Tom merrily. It wasn’t my fault I went wrong,” sobbed the “hind-legs” pitifully. “I cculdn’t sce where I was going.” “You should have kicked,” Dick seriously. “Whenever I tried to back down I got sat on,” sighed Mumps sadly. In the meantime the front half of the bull was naturally ahead, and as it outdistanced its pursuers and sped across the arena toward Dora and Nellie and Grace, it flung off its horns, and there stood revealed — three guesses: (1) No. (2) No. (3) Yes. “Dan Baxter!” ejaculated the read- er, feverishly tearing out the next three pages in his excitement. replied Page 78. frightened the three girls into a spasm, many hundred feet deep, at the foot of which a tiny stream curled beneath the beetling walls. “To the Lost City!” leered Dan Baxter, bearing the girls down the narrow, hot spasm, where black, hairy turantellas crawled amid the sour piccolos that grew everywhere in abundance, and the air overhead was foul with the screeching of pink fan- dangoes. “Where are the Rover Boys?” gasped Dora; and in his anxiety to find them the reader skipped the next three chapters entirely. Cuarter Ninety-Two ‘DAN BAXTER!” gasped Dick, as the Rover Boys set out in hot pursuit. “How do you know?” inquired Tom. “It always is,” replied Dick; and then the three Rovers spurred their horses forward and ate up the road, leaving only a few scattered crumbs as they dis- appeared over the horizon, “Where are we going?” gasped Sam. “To the rescue,” replied Dick, cubing his already square jaw; when suddenly a little slave-girl flung herself in their path, holding a note in Dora’s hand- writing, from which dropped a small arrow. (Continued on page 30) MR. BRYAN CENSORS THE SCRIPTURES Reaction AMos T. SMUGG dropped in on the old home town. He oozed pros- perity from top hat to duotone shoes. Dozing on the sunny station platform was an old friend, just “Sam,” colored, contented, comfortably seedy. “Well, well, how are you, Sam? boomed Amos, in his hearty director's voice. He smiled fatly. “Quite a sur- prise to sce me here again, eh?” “Yassuh,” grinned Sam. “Folks know about me, do they?” “Yassuh, they knows.” “Wonder if they heard that I was president of my own company and di- rector in nine others, Sam?” “Yassuh, they heerd.” “Hm, That I—er—made considerable money, and was elected to Congress. Do they know that, Sam?” “Sho', they knows ‘at, too, suh.” And that I have just recently as- sumed the—er—mantle of a Senator?” Mr. Smugg chuckled jocosely. Yassuh, that come through.” “Well, well. And—ah—what do they say, Sam? What do they say?” “Oh, they jus’ laughs.” Stanley Jones. To Wine ESPITE the frowning Puritan You are life's smile: Through you I've oft youth A little while! rejoined my Harry Kemp. comicbooks.com