Adventure Magazine Cover — page 172: what you’re looking at

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

162 morrow—he knew how important the cap- tain considered them. He had not intended to mention the acid until later, but the fog would prevent going after a new supply. “Ves, sir,” he replied, his downcast eyes on the hat which he was twirling nervously. ‘“‘Woodruff, there are several things which are apparent to me. In the first place, you’re afraid of flying. That has been noticeable. In the second place, you hit Goddard Field with the idea that you were a combination of Pershing and the Encyclopedia Britannica, and when your ideas of staying in bed until nine o’clock and working as little as possible were shat- tered you have been deliberately holding us up in every way in your power. You have been a gold-brick and a useless loafer. Orderly!’ The orderly jumped at the captain’s raised voice, and came into the office. “Go to the photographic hut and get Brown,” ordered Kennard. ‘“‘Here’s what you’re going to do, Wood- ruff,’ went on the captain, his gray eyes cold and his mouth set. ‘But I guess I'll wait until] Brown gets here, to tell you.”’ Woodruff was at a loss. Matters did not look to be in a very comforting state as far as he was concerned. Apparently he had gone just a bit too far. He stood quietly, his stoop-shouldered form hunched forward farther than usual and his eyes on the floor. Occasional far-away booms from the big guns which Beaman and Hemingwood were con- trolling out there on the range ten miles away reached the ears of the two men in the office, and once in a while a window rat- tled as a whole battery fired a salvo. In a moment Brown entered. He was a fresh-faced, youthful chap who was, next to Woodruff, the highest ranking man in the photo detachment. “Brown, you could take charge of the photographic work if necessary, couldn’t your” demanded Kennard without pre- amble. ‘Yes, sir,” was the prompt response. ‘““What happened to the sulfuric acid that was in stock for the batteries?”’ The corporal glanced briefly at Woodruff. '“T don’t know, sir. It’s all gone.”’ “Were there any signs of leakage?” “Yes, sir. We keep it in a little outside cupboard, you know, so that in case of a leak it would drop on the ground. The bottle was cracked and it had all dropped Adventure to the ground through the open-work shelf we kept it on.” “T see. And you have no idea how the jar could have cracked?” “No, sir.” ‘Well, I have. I am not satisfied with Woodruff’s work anyhow. Starting right now, you are in charge of all photo work. Woodruff, you’re a fatigue sergeant. Your days of ease are over. ‘That sulfuric acid has got to be pro- cured from Dayton today. With this fog it’s a ofatrip. If Hemingwood doesn’t object to going after it he will go, because he’s the only man in the outfit that has flown the course before. If he doesn’t want to go—and I won’t blame him if he doesn’t —Il’ll go myself. And you, Woodruff, will be the passenger on the trip, whoever goes.” 4 Woodruff said nothing. He was afraid of flying—not badly enough to make him want to give up the juicy extra pay which it meant, but still uncomfortable a few thousand feet above the earth. The thought of that flight through the fog to Dayton, two hundred miles, made his yellow heart beat like a trip-hammer, but the captain’s next sentence prevented him from registering his dislike for the trip. “If you renig on the trip—which by Army Regulations you can—you will be courtmartialed for carelessness and neglect of duty, and those sergeant’s stripes will come off: your sleeve. I ought to do it anyhow. In view of the-fact that it is your carelessness—to put it charitably—which has made this trouble and danger necessary, and in view also of the fact that you are on flying duty, it is your place to go along and procure just the stuff needed. ‘Therefore I have no compunction in presenting the alternative to you. Which will you choose?” Woodruff was silent and cringing. ‘‘Answer me!” snapped the captain. “I—TI’ll go,” said Woodruff sullenly. The captain glanced at his wristwatch. ‘“‘Hemingwood will be down in a: few minutes. You will be ready to accompany whoever goes in half an hour. Orderly!” ‘*Yes, sir,” and Private White hurried in. “Order Sergeant Decker to have my ship warmed and ready to go on a trip to Dayton in half an hour. Also to have plenty of gas and oil immediately available for Lieuten- ant Hemingwood’s ship when he comes down. Either ship may go.” MICLOOOK (C©