Adventure Magazine Cover, April 3, 1918 — page 82: what you’re looking at

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

80 the duties of O. C. Signals. He will be responsible for the maintenance in good condition of the signal locker and flags, code books aes “They are sending the pole down from H. Q. administration,” explained Hamil- ton, ‘and it should be up by the end of the week—do you know anything about signals, Bones?” Bones smiled. “T think I may say in all modesty, dear old sir,” he said with fine carelessness, “that there’s jolly little I don’t know about signals. I hate to boast, dear old Ham, as you’ve often said——”’ ‘I’ve never said anything so untruthful— but I should not let that discourage you,” interrupted Hamilton, “nor should it divert your mind from the fact that I asked you a very simple question to which you have not yet replied. Do you understand sig- nals?” “I won’t deceive you,” solemnly, “I do.” said Bones ee AND this he proved, for when the Le great new flagstaff had been erected, =i and the Government tug which had towed the pole to the beach had turned its nose for home, Bones, with the aid of the Government code-book, signalled— ‘Wish you pleasant voyage.”’ Whereupon the tug spun ’round and came back at full speed. “The signal flags H.L.M.1, sir,” said the exasperated skipper of the tug, “do not mean ‘Wish you pleasant voyage,’ but ‘return at once; natives are in revolt.’ ”’ “Dear me!” said Bones, “how jolly romantic!” And so the tug went off again and Bones undeterred sent a string of flags fluttering up to the yard which the skipper read— “Am short of coal—can you tow me?” Which he rightly interpreted as being some- thing rather complimentary in farewell messages. Bones not only took kindly to his new job, but it became for him an absorbing passion. Not only did he spend his spare hours poring over the Government and mercantile codes, but he invented a code of his own. Not only had he signal flags, but in a great box, each enclosed in a neat canvas bag, were the ensigns of the nations “for employment’’—said the printed instruc- ZAG AMY BPX KN Adventure tiops—‘‘in saluting war vessels, governors, commissioners, etc., of foreign powers.”’ “Some of ’em wholly superfluous, dear old sir,” he complained, “‘unless we receive a visit from the Swiss fleet or hobnob with the jolly old King of Siam—an’ who the dooce am I to salute with the German Royal Standard? With a war like this going on it can’t be done, dear old thing!’’ Life had a new interest not only for himself, but for every native within ten miles of the station. Visitors and residents alike would gather about the flagstaff and watch Bones as he played with his new toy. And one of these visitors was the son of the sister of a certain Buluta, and a no- torious thief. Of this small fact Bones was oblivious in the ecstasy of new discoveries, for he found friends which in olden days moved outside of his orbit. He sent astounding greetings to little old tramps that came rolling over the edge of the ocean, spoke hilariously to passing liners which answered briefly and often coldly—the ‘‘affirmative”’ in answer to a sixteen-flag message was little short of a snub—and once when a lean gray American warship came nosing out of nowhere looking for submarines Bones surpassed himself in a cordial greeting which ran, literally: Y.D. has arrived at this port. Have cavalry chargers on board. Am carrying feathers and hats. Please arrange supply wine and macaroni for Italian emigrants. The commander of the American warship, fortunately, thought that there was a re- gatta or a Fourth of July celebration on shore and contented himself with signaling —“Good-by.”’ “And what the dickens were you trying to say?” asked Hamilton when Bones com- plained bitterly of the lack of international courtesy. “My dear but dull old landlubber,” said GoOmicsoo S (C@)