Adventure Magazine Cover — page 182: what you’re looking at

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

180 They assured him that he was correct. “T have been motifié—zat is, warned of your coming,” the captain continued. “By telephone.” He tapped the instrument on the table before him importantly. “But you are late.” “We couldn’t get here any sooner,” Hart- ley explained defensively. ‘“‘It’salong way.” “So. Which way you come, alors? By Mittlach?”’ The Americans looked at each other. “Mittlach? What’s that—a town? No, we came around the mountains like this—” Oleson opened his map and traced the line. The captain’s ruddy cheeks turned pale with excitement. “Mon Dieul Mais non! Eet is not pos- sible. You should not have went like that. Here and here and here are ze German lines. Half ze time in, half ze time out. You have took a route of ze utmost danger! Ze patrols, zey are all ze time across zoze roads. To be captured one goes zat way. You should have come by Mittlach—ze roads are steeper up and down, but eet is more safe.”’ The Americans who had been standing as far apart as possible, hating each other, drew closer together. Oleson glanced at Hartley. “My ——!” he said abruptly. “Wouldn’t you know it?” Hartley an- swered. ‘That man Brooks doesn’t know his ankle from his elbow. Does it mean anything to him if we get killed? It does not!” “Bien. You are here,” the captain told them, recovering from his excitement as quickly as he had fallen into it. ‘You will stay one week. Yes? But of one thing I must warn you. Donot leave ze town. No. Not at all.”’ “Why not?” Oleson asked, disappointed that his search for possible souvenirs was to be curtailed. “Why not indeed!” The captain spread expressive hands. ‘“‘Eet is enough that I tell you so. If you wander eet is danger, that is—le major fantéme—difficult to say. Your sacred language!”’ “The phantom major,” Oleson said. “Go on, [ understand. What is it—a ghost?” “Ah, you speak French! Bien entendu. Ecoutes.” He spoke rapidly for a minute. “And now,” he concluded. ‘‘Eet is un- Larry Barretto derstood. Go to the caserne for food and sleep. Allez, mes enfants. A la soupel”” The Americans saluted and left the bright office. Outside the night seemed blacker and more restless than before. The wind had risen and the trees swayed together, tossing their arms toward a starless sky. “I don’t like it,” Hartley muttered. “This —— moaning sound gets my goat. I’d rather have shells.” He pressed closer to Oleson’s side, but the latter did not answer. “Say something, Oley, for the love of Mike. I wish I’d never asked you to come. What did his Nibs say about that ghost you were talking about? The phantom major. If we can’t leave the village you might at least tell me why.”’ “You didn’t ask me to come, you made me come,” Oleson corrected him explicitly. “And [ll tell you about the phantom ma- jor, you bet I will, you blockhead, just so you can see what a mess we’ve got into. Listen here. There’s a German officer who wanders around these woods dressed as a French major, or maybe it’s a captain or a lieutenant sometimes. He speaks their lingo like a shot and no one can tell him from a frog. Well, you’re going along these lonely roads with a wagon of ammunition or food and the first thing you know he ap- pears beside you and directs you to go down another way, saying the road ahead has been cut off. You turn off like he tells you to and suddenly you’re surrounded by a patrol! Then, zowie, you wake up in Ger- many!” “What do they turn off for?” Hartley asked sensibly. Oleson snorted his contempt. “Two or three didn’t, and one guy was court-martialed for that and the rest ran into the Germans just as the officer said. You see he was the real thing that time.” Hartley digested this in silence. “T don’t believe it, anyway,” he said at last. “Look at us. The captain said we came right through part of the German line, but we didn’t see anything or hear any- thing either. This major story is just scare stuff to keep us around headquarters. I don’t believe it.” “No, you wouldn’t. Just the same the captain told me that General Messimy has posted a reward of a thousand francs for this major guy, dead or alive. Chew on that for a while.”’ DOOLK (©