Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 22: what you’re looking at

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

648 “ Of course they were! Now, then, they will be trying for a record, as I’ve said. It ‘ll all depend on which number six gets in between the wheels soonest and gets ’is gun un’ooked first. If your team wins, you are released—at least I don’t think you'll come back to clink. Not if I can ’elp it, and I can tell the tyle. But if your team don’t win, you’ll come back, and Gawd ’elp you. ‘““ But remember they were little girl or- phans, seven or eight of ’em, frightened and not able to move out of the road. When you look at it right, you ought to get a medal after the next church parade. Stay ’ere for the night. Do you box?” There was a long pause, then the batman heard a low answer pitched in a key of actual suffering. “No, I don’t box.” “Old up your ’ead when you talk to me. And don’t forget to address a sergeant major as sir! You could box if you would, you lazy blighter, and bring some honor to your unit. Of all the idiots! Report to your battery officer to-morrow morning at nine o’clock.” The batman heard the stir of the big body again, and the low, ironic voice said: “* Suppose I refuse?”’ ‘ Refuse!” said the sergeant major, after a pause in which the batman felt the hair rising on his scalp at such audacity. ‘“ You cawn’t!”’ “Well, the clink isn’t so bad. You get food and shelter, and nobody to bellow at you.” “ Strike me!” said the officer in a whis- per. ‘‘ Wot do you want?” “ Nothing. Yes—one thing. Is there a good, strong safe in the garrison?”’ “A syfe? No. Wot’ave you? There’s a strong box in each battery office where the railway warrants are kept, but they’ve been forced more than once. If you ’ave anythink of value, ’ang onto it yourself or give it to your officer. ’E’ll keep it for you. And now, then,” he said, raising his voice for the benefit of the guard, “ you ’ave your orders. You’re to report for gun drill with your battery to-morrow.” \e, Si. “And for Gawd’s sake, pull yourself to- ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. gether and try to act like a live soldier! You’re the new army! You’re the lot that ‘ave to be treated like gentlemen! If you’re a soldier,” he concluded in a voice of inex- pressible fury, “ /’m a field marshal!” “Tl do my best to make it a good show,” was the unmoved answer. When the sergeant major had gone the batman crept back to his cot. The chances were ten to one that the tall man had the stones, and he was bound for freedom. He rocked to and fro on his cot, suddenly sick with fury, planning, wondering’ what he should do. He might get word to Wales, but if he did so while he himself was in confinement it was probable that Wales would put the thing through without him, and that thousand pounds which had glowed ‘before him since their interview at the Red Lion would be gone. No, it was better to wait. Angelsey would get him out to-morrow; he would be free by the time Morgan could leave barracks, and he would report to Wales then. And in the meantime he would do his best to know for certain whether the tall soldier had Pearsley’s stones on him. The tea buckets banged as the trumpeter returned. Bugles sang the feed call, and the corporal opened the big door and called them out for exercise. The batman got up quickly, received the bowl of tea, the slice of bread, the bit of cheese, and spread his ‘portion of jam from the general dish which the trumpeter held out to him. Then he ‘turned down the passage, walking slowly, so that he could get a glimpse into the cell next his own. Its occupant sat on his cot, his head bowed in his hands. The spy could see that he was big and young. The light fell on a-head of closely curling brown hair and long, strong, white hands. But in spite of his youth there was an air of complete dejection about the man, as if he had been totally and irrevocably cast down. The batman, as he walked on toward the exercise yard, remembered what Kate had said: “ A sad, queer lad.” The exercise yard was a small, walled inclosure, cobbled with loaflike stones. At. one end, the end which would have received the sun on a fine day, was a bench. At the. COMME OOOl<SaEO