Adventure Magazine Cover — page 27: what you’re looking at

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

THE PENNSYLVANIA LINE “Very well, sir. Is that all?” Wayne could just be seen to nod in the creeping dawn. Macklin saluted and went on his errand, silent as a lynx in the snow. “How did you come after you left me at the Forks?” asked Wayne of Swan. “Very nicely and quietly, sir,’’ he was answered. ‘The roads hardening up about midnight, and no wind rising to speak of. Perfect marching weather, if so be ye must march in the winter. Then, *bout day- break, it begun to snow, and we didn’t make much more’n five mile after that.”’ Wayne nodded in comprehension. He had floundered, himself, through sixteen miles of storm. “You crossed by the brick bridge?” Butler asked. ““Yes, twas the shortest way,” said Swan. “But it took you within three miles of Marbury,” said Wayne sharply. ‘What if you had been seen by Von Erkheim’s Hessians?” “We was seen,” said Swan calmly, “but the videttes—” “The whail’’? It was in chorus. “The videttes,” said Swan firmly, as if defying contradiction. “Fallen put ’em out as soon as we’d crossed the bridge, and didn’t call ’em in again till we was six mile past Marbury.” “Well!” said Butler. ““Tst, tst!”’ clucked Stewart. ‘“‘And—and the videttes?”’ asked Wayne in bewilderment. “Picked up a pair of Hessians on their way home from a New Year’s party at some Tory farmstead,” continued Swan. “They was main surprized when they come to on one of our caissons, and this side of Vealtown. But they was the only living souls we seen the whole night long, and I’m doubtful if they know yet, in Marbury, that we passed within three mile of ’em.” There was a cogitative pause, which was broken by the stout colonel, who spoke his opinion with conviction. “jt all, but this is the most ex- traordinary mutiny that I ever heard of! It seems to be conducted under all the rules and regulations of the art of war!” “Yes, your soldierly sergeant-major,”’ jeered Stewart, “appears to be maintaining a stricter discipline than the 4th has lived under for some—”’ “My golly, that’s so!” broke from Swan. ‘‘And I’m supposed to be walking post this 25 blessed instant!” Ten steps away he turned. ‘‘Ye—ye wouldn’t mention how long I’ve stood there a-gabbing, would ye, now, General?” he asked persuasively, “if ye should come to have talk with Fallen?” “Private,” said Wayne gravely, “‘if it was yourself in my place, would ye not mention te” The tow-head was grinning broadly as he retreated to the beaten track. “Is it according to the art of war for a general to jest with one of his own pri- vates?”’ idly asked the gray colonel. ‘“‘That was no private of mine!’’ Wayne spoke bitterly into the biting dawn. “That is one of Floyd Allen’s privates.”’ VI served for brigade headquarters at Middle- brook, the board of sergeants lis- tened gravely to Macklin. All were present save the sergeant-major of the 4th. “‘We-ell,”’ hesitated Barstow, ‘‘don’t look like there’d be any harm in just talking to him.” “‘Nope,”’ agreed Riddle. ‘“ ’T'would be good politics, for that there information sounds like it was of prime importance to us.” “‘Hain’t ye a notion of what’s about, Macklin?” asked Dockstader, a sleek, dark, accentless German, of the third generation, who was in command of the Germantown Corps. ‘“‘How’d he carry toward ye?” asked Ban- nock, a smart-looking Scot from Colonel Shea’s crack regiment from Philadelphia. *“Was his dander raised?”’ ‘“‘And was Stewart peevish over my riding off on Powhattan?” inquired Riddle in an anxious tone. ‘Iwas the only horse left in his stable. He should ‘a’ taken him, stead of the mare, to go a-New Year visiting on.”’ “They was quiet and reasonable enough, T: THE cow-shed that all on ’em,” reported Macklin. ‘But main anxious to get something to ye. Will ye walk out, now, to meet ’em?” He was oddly and openly desirous that they should start at once. ‘Well, I don’t half like to do that, with- out first consulting Fallen,” said Barstow. “Seems like taking advantage, somehow.”’ “Where is he?” And Macklin’s voice sank, Gomiciook CO