Adventure Magazine Cover — page 82: what you’re looking at

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

Fagg “SN : smudged-one’ s face. ~ of a scorpion which lay at its bottom. He was not sure whether the smudge-faced one he addressed was an officer or simply an air mechanic. ““Where’s the C. O.?” he inquired. © “TI haven’t the foggiest idea,’’ answered the greasy-faced .individual, ‘Are you Singleton?”’ “No. I’m Tunnard,”’ The other looked disappointed. “Perhaps you brought the mail?” . He got up, expectantly. “What mail? I didn’t bring any mail. - Just flew over from Abou Kir.” “Ves, you did!’ . A faint grin altered the “Did you see Single- ton over in Hilmi? MHe’s the new ferry pilot, y’know.”’ “__ jt all!” Tunnard’ was very much annoyed. “I tell you I’ve just come over from Abou Kir. If “Oh!” pion, no longer interested in Tunnard. “You'll probably find the major in his mar- quee,” he said over his shoulders” “I’d let him sleep though, if he is.” / His companions laughed and looked Tun-. nard over appraisingly. _ Tunnard, after questioning various half- alive individuals, located the tent of the commanding officer and Eoeued to make known his presence. go “Oh, yes?” <A red and mich-mottled face rose from the green canvas pillow. “Oh, yes?” “Pye come to report, sir. My name’s Tunnard.” “Oh, yes?” Tunnard did not know what next to say; the major appeared to be asking a ques- tion. “Oh, yes?” “My name’s Tunnard.”’ “Well, what about it?” “T’ve come to report, sir.’ “Is that all?” : “Yes, sir.’ : “Great Joseph!” The red face turned urple. ‘“‘What the blistering— Oh, my Jord!” It fell back upon the green pillow and laughed. Tunnard had never before heard such derision. There was something fiendish in it, he thought. ‘Brought any papers?” he heard the major asking. Tunnard fumbled with his breast-pocket - to produce his movement orders, and then the face laughed again. The other sat down to his scor- . 80 os : Adventure “Not those—not those. Newspapers. N-e-w-s!”’ “Why, no; I never thought of it.” Tun- nard cleared his throat. -“‘I’ve just flown over from Abou Kir.” “Oh!” The major rolled over and, like the person on the darmac, appeared to ‘have lost all interest. “Report to the adjutant after tea-time,” he ordered. ‘‘What d’you think we keep an adjutant for?” It was a very indignant, bewildered and anxious-to-be-recognized Tunnard who re- ported ‘to the orderly room—a low, sand- sagged marquee—at 5:30. “My name’s Tunnard,” he informed the man with the bloodshot eyes who reached , for his papers. “T see. How’d you get here?” “Flew—” »Tunnard paused to get the proper effect—‘‘ffom Abou Kir.” ““Where’s your kit?” “Oh, that’s all right; it’s being sent up to Hilmi. They told me at Abou Kir some ‘ one would fly it over from rail-head for me,’ “They did, did they! ~Told you that at Abou Kir, did they? Well, my eyes! ’? The adjutant appeared at a loss. “Didn’t bring a cot, I suppose?” “No, sir.” \ “Um! This is a nice mess 0’ fish. Where do you intend to sleep?”’ “*T don’t know; I just flew over from-—— — “Well, I’m —— if I do either.” 3 THAT night Tunnard struggled to | sleep on three palm-fiber crates. as soon as the sun had left the face of the desert the night became bitterly cold. The scanty donation of blankets was rearranged several times in an attempt”to keep warm the base of his spine, and he found the mel- ancholic chanting of the Arab batmen, from the sand-waddies behind the camp, sie fully depressing. His mind was a tumult of outraged cde. and offended dignity. No one had taken any notice of him. His flip from Abou Kir— which he had expected would make qtite a stir—had not even been mentioned; his intruding upon the major’s siesta, however, had been the cause of some mild merri- ment at dinner. But even that had made but a ripple in the monotonous drone of the talk. Every one seemed wrapped up in himself, gloomy, tired and bored to death with every one GO MKE OOOKS He was dismayed to discover that . ~~ (E@)