Adventure Magazine Cover, June 18, 1921 — page 17: what you’re looking at

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

When Good Fellows Get Together 7 “Ten thousand dollar-r-r-rs, going to the folks, Ten thousand dollar-r-r-rs, going to the folks, Engine goes blooey! Another flyer croaks. Ten thousand dollars, going to the folks!”’ The words “‘ten thousand dollars,”’ refer- ring to the amount of Government insur- ance each Army man carries, were drawn out dolorously, and each combination of notes was brought out with lingering effect as the songsters let themselves out. ‘“Go- ing to the folks” was sung in snappy time. At the end of the cheery verse a chorus of mingled applause and groans shook the ceiling. As Dave entered the trio had started. again. Captain Kennard walked over to him with a welcoming grin and started in- troducing him to the dozen men who were waiting for the fat Chink factotum to serve dinner. The songsters came last. “Hickman, meet Ransom,” and Dave shook hands with the huge blond observer, who grinned widely and greeted him heartily. ‘Jennings you already know, and lastly, we present Tex MacDowell.” Dave turned to face the tall, clean-cut pilot, and even as he put out his hand recognition came to him. Like a flash his smile froze and as his eyes met MacDowell’s they were hard as flint. MacDowell was the first to break the suddenly dramatic silence. “T think we’ve met before,” he drawled with his characteristic half-mocking smile. As he put-out his hand the smile widened into an altogether likable grin. Ransom, his head in a whirl, took it, and even as he did so hated himself for his weakness. For Lee MacDowell, premier flyer of the border, was the one man in the world he hated. No wonder the name had been familiar! Captain Kennard, with quick tact, start- ed the song again and Ransom turned away, taking out a cigaret with shaking hands. The other men, who had noticed the little drama being enacted before them, looked at one another in puzzled astonishment. What was biting this new man? But character- istically they said nothing and by the time dinner was on the table the hot-headed Ransom was himself again, outwardly. Inwardly he was miserably unhappy. For the time being even his hatred was secondary as he thought ahead. Mac- Dowell was already well known throughout the Air Service—spoken of with respect and admiration hundreds of miles away. What did it matter what Ransom, the recruit, thought of the famous Tex? He looked at the big lean-faced pilot with the level gray eyes and the whimsical, half-mocking curve at the corners of his mouth. Laughing, joshing his comrades in softly drawling good-humor, Tex was the picture of ease and self-assurance. Mac- Dowell, formerly of the Royal Air Force, three Huns to his credit, conqueror of Dumpy Scarth in a flying-contest, entitled to wear a string of decorations across his blouse from two governments—he knew his record, him! Dave bolted his food without tasting it as he thought back to that day in Arilla, Texas, when this same MacDowell had made him a public laughing-stock. Even now his face flushed as he lived it over again, but it passed from his mind for the moment as he saw his air castles come tumbling down about his ears. Life at McMullen could hold but little contentment now. In ten minutes or less probably the whole group would have heard the story and he would certainly be the butt of their mirth, very probably of their contempt. The un- easy conviction that he himself was mostly to blame was not comforting, and as often happens, that conviction simply intensified his attitude toward the man who had been his Nemesis. As for Tex, his feelings were somewhat mixed, likewise. He had never been proud of that incident in Arilla, but it must have been funny. “Still holding*the grudge, too,” Tex told himself as he made a frontal attack on the pie. He raised his eyes, and met Captain Ken- nard’s gaze. Tex grinned, shook his head slightly and shrugged his shoulders. Then he entered an animated argument between Binder and Mallory as to the relative merits of Matamoras and Juarez for purposes of wassail and debauch. The argument was still unsettled as the group left the mess-hall and gathered in the recreation-room, where card-tables, a phon- ograph and many magazines were adjuncts to easy-chairs and picture-covered walls. <A few went to their tents to prepare for the descent on divers McMullen homes. Jimmy Jennings was devoting himself to the task of making Ransom feel at home and Captain Kennard lent a helping hand. The result COmiclboo oN Vp) ©