Adventure, July 1, 1928 — page 120: what you’re looking at

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

114 HPS. later he was shot down in flames in a machine condemned by the French. They heard the voice of the madame raised in loud objurgations outside, but there was a knock at the door, and im- mediately a man entered. He wore the uniform of a first lieutenant, and on. his arm the brassard of an M.P. But his truculence subsided into oiliness at the sight of the major’s leaves. “Excuse me, Major,” he said, “but orders are very strict, you know. Major Krause is very particular that no flying officer should leave the post under any conditions. I beg your pardon, Lieuten- ant, but have you got a pass?” ““He’s with me,” said the ace shortly. “Oh,” said the M.P. uncertainly, and went out. He wasn’t sure exactly what the ace’s status was, but his rank was plain enough, and the M.P. was afraid of burning his fingers. “Wait till that guy catches me alone,” said Tommy. “Stick around with me,” said the ace. “Krause doesn’t quite know what to do about me yet, for I’ve got a pull in Paris, and he’s let me alone since I left the field.” stick, and lived the life of Riley, sleeping in a good bed, eating good meals, drinking good wine and taking sulphur baths twice a day. At the end of that time his scabies was gone. “T guess I’d better be getting back to the field,” he told the ace. “I want to get through there and get to the front. I took an awful chance going A. W. O. L, but maybe my little scheme will work on Krause. If it doesn’t, and he takes me off flying ’ll be sunk. Think I might as well go out and let that M.P. pick me up and give me a ride back to camp.” He shook hands with the ace, and walked out and down the street alone. He hadn’t gone far when a Ford drew ple THREE DAYS Tommy did GREENE up beside him and stopped. In the front seat was the M.P. lieutenant, and behind a hard-boiled sergeant with a .45. “Hey,” said the lieutenant in rough tones, “‘let’s see your pass.” “T ain’t got a pass,” the little man re- turned. “All right, then, you’re under arrest. Get in here, and I'll take you out to the field.” Tommy obeyed meekly, and they rode along without conversation. Presently he was ushered into the presence of Major Krause. “What?” growled the major. ‘In town without a pass, eh? What have you got to say for yourself, young man?” “Well,” Tommy replied, ‘“‘the other day you told me never to question an order in the Army, and if I couldn’t obey an order to come as near it as I could.” “What rigamarole is this?” asked Major Krause angrily. “Do you mean to stand there and tell me I ordered you to go A. W. O. LP” “Not exactly, sir,” answered Tommy respectfully, “but you see this order here. I couldn’t see my way clear to carry it out, so I thought Id better leave here so as not to embarrass you.” Major Krause looked at the paper Tommy extended and his eyes goggled. His face became more congested than ever, and wrinkles corrugated his brow. What could he do? If he court-martialed this ‘young idiot this order would un- doubtedly be his defense, and Krause’s dignity, a carefully tended hothouse plant of uncertain virility, could hardly survive. So he waved his arms in a furious gesture of dismissal and gurgled like an active volcano, and Tommy saluted and left discreetly. The paper he had given Krause read: x9 Ist. Lieut. Thomas Lang, A. S.S. O. R. C. Transferred from Section 13 to Death in Line of Duty by order, —HERMAN ERAUSE, MAJOR, SIGNAL CORPS. comicloooks.com