Adventure Magazine Cover — page 63: what you’re looking at

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

se = - so ‘= =: > ae, “ bie < *~ ¢ ~ a = _ is - ee tS ~ & ares a anor fix ea ——"s yes = oS oS a é rae hee : =s = Pes ga a ne aa <a aS rT: iam ae er *: ~ —, ay 1 age =: He performed his duties without mercy or compassion. Officers of combatant outfits could ‘fe- member that, even if their young men acted at times like colts and showed none of the discretion of years, they neither had shown discretion in the grim valleys of northern France, where older and wiser men would have quailed under the whistling of shrap- nel. Such officers were proud of their men. “Boys will be boys,” they said, though they frowned at boyish foolishness. But not so this cold and careful man who sat glaring at Scallan the Merchant, for this man was Provost Marshal Lynch. “What are you:laughing at?” he roared. . “You'll laugh from the other side of your mouth when I get out of this bush!’’ “When you do,” nodded the Merchant, surveying the stout branches with spikes that looked like trench knives. ‘When you do,” Scallan felt with his feet under the bush. It was good springy turf and dry, and he gathered leaves and twigs here and there and lay down on top of them to sleep peacefully, Kamerad and he, stopping their ears to the cries of the man not six feet above them. Unless the man’s voice were heard in Toxerre, he might as well have been gagged, for he was dealing now with a person as callous as himself. The Merchant expected no mercy in any event, if military law caught hold of him, and, to do him justice, consideration of common humanity never entered his mind for a moment. “If you don’t pull me out,” swore the man in the bush, “I'll have you kept in France for the rest of your natura] life! I'll have you put.on a prison farm and fed on hardtack and water! Ill make your life so miserable that you’ll wish you were shot and done for!” And so he went on, contriving and plan- ning revenges out of his experience, till you wouldn’t want your worst enemy to have a taste of what he promised. And when he gave the least struggle to free himself, the thorns bit into his flesh like teeth, and then he yelled and cursed till the air trembled. But Kamerad and the Merchant were going happily off to sleep, the former with a last wag of his tail and both with smiles on their faces. The man in the bush looked | ane eae: and then changed his tune. Boe om Sonar oee Se A a a i tee ‘ =, > 7 a ~ - you be quiet? the ae to ask for, if oe Poul pull me_ : out of this bush!” But the Merchant did not so much as open an eye, nor did Kamerad. “T’ll give you a hundred francs, cash!” The Merchant snuggled his hard little face into the soft leaves, with a sweet snore. Never so much as a word did he give back, nor a hint that he had heard at all. “My good, kind-hearted, Christian young man,” the officer implored, “wake up and think of something you want, and it’s yours for pulling me out of these thorns! I’m somebody in this country and I warn you of that, and what I say I’ll do, I’ll do! What’ll you have?” chant, sitting up and rubbing his fists into his eyes. “Why can’t Does nobody want to sleep but yourself? Have you nothing to do but sit in bushes like an owl and’pester decent travelers? Stop your infernal noise till I think if there’s anything that would pay me for pulling you out of that bush.” The unfortunate officer watched the Merchant’s dark face. “Have you a cure for the mange?” asked the Merchant at last, when he could imagine nothing he wanted for himself. “T have not,” said the man. “Tt wouldn’t be you if you had,” the Merchant. good for fleas?” “T’ll ask my medical officer,” man. “A better doctor for fleas this country.” “Send for him,” agreed the Merchant, and he lay down again beside Kamerad to sleep. But the man wheedled and wailed so that sleep could not come to the thorn-bush, and the Merchant sat up again, rubbing his eyes ina temper. “And so you're still at it, are you?” he exclaimed with sparkling eyes. “For the love of God pull me out of this bush!” wept the man in the thorns. ‘Have you no heart or decency at all under that dirty blouse?” ‘“You’re the biggest nuisance I’ve ever met,’’ said the Merchant. He fell again to pondering. He saw that Kamerad had been aroused, too, and was growled “Do you know what is said the is not in + ~s. nem n= OS x . Pe es ci " 3< 4 Se Ska" — oe wel a" FES . 2 = “YOU’RE a curse,” said the Mer- —