Adventure Magazine Cover, June 20, 1925 — page 69: what you’re looking at

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

A Sergeant of Cavalry 51 “Who’s been ridin’ my horse?” asked Nell suddenly. “One o’ the Johns,” said the sergeant. “He don’t take no kind o’ care o’ him.” “He ought to be tried!” said Nell. The head of a column appeared at the upper end of the picket line. It was the troop marching down to saddle up. The sergeant moved away to attend to the sad- dling of his own mount. He gave some direction to one of the men, who, gathering his saddle again, followed the sergeant to a different part of the line. The troop saddled and led out. Nell watched them with an aching heart. There were several things he would have liked to correct—blankets on wrong side to, bits too far down in the mouth, stirrups too short. He remembered his ignorance of infantry tactics, that he did not even know how a grenade was fired. ‘This is the outfit I belong in,” said Nell to himself. “I know something about cav- alry and all I know about infantry is that it gets an awful rub when there’s any fightin’ to do.” Stil, a commission was a commission. But what would he buy an outfit with? “All I need is a Sam Brown belt and a pair o’ pins,” he thought. “Good-by, Nell,” said the sergeant. He had mounted and ridden up un- noticed. He bent down from the saddle and shook hands. A whistle blew and Nell could hear the trampling as the troops moved out. Well, a commission in the in- fantry was better than a buck private evén in the cavalry. | ‘So long,” said Nell, and started back to his barn. . There were whistles blowing in the town now and it was time the company was out of the hay. He turned for one last look at the cavalry. B Troop was leading, then A, then the escort wagons, their khaki tops swaying over the uneven ground. There was a knot of horsemen by the last wagon, evidently a rear guard. Then Nell dis- covered that there was a horse tethered to a tree, and left alone in the field. “Hey!” called Nell. “Look at that horse. Hey, you left a horse.”’ The horse, watching the departing troops, ran first one way about the tree and then the other, and finally nickered plaintively. Nell stopped. That horse looked like the one he used to ride. “He never had that nickerin’ habit when he was mine,” said Nell. “I better untie him an’ let him run, he’ll catch up with 7em.”’ He ran back to the tree and undid the halter shank, muttering his thought of the man that would tie up a horse and then go off and leave him. “Beat it,” said Nell, waving his hand. The horse, however, did not run,but came close to Nell and sniffed at the pocket where Nell used to carry his tobacco. “You knew me, didn’t you?” said Nell. “You old crow bait, you cheat the sausage-maker every day of your life. If I had a cigaret I'd give it to you. Beat it now.” He turned the horse’s head in the direc- - tion the troops had gone, but the horse turned back. This wasn’t the first time he and this man had been left when the others went away. The horse knew. This was to be a patrol, an outpost, or a picket, and after a while there would be a lot of fine galloping, with sugar and tobacco after it was over. The horse wasn’t to be fooled. There! Heknewit! The manhad got into saddle. Now for a good gallop. - WHEN Nell came sliding up to the rear guard, he discovered it was composed of the first ser- yy geant, the stable sergeant and Sergeant Olsen. “There,” said Olsen, ‘‘didn’t I tell yuh if I tied that old goat out there he’d have to come in. Make up your mind, Nell?” “Sure,” said Nell, “a buck private of cavalry’s got ’em all beat, clear up to general.” “All right, privit/’? grinned the top ser- geant, “‘bein’ as how you was late to forma- tion, you c’n ride back here with us all day an’ eat dust.” | Thereat there was great slapping of backs and striking of hands, and the rearguard rode forward very merrily. COMmiclboookks.CO