Argosy All-Story Weekly, July 11, 1925 — page 17: what you’re looking at

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

THE BIG GUN. “ Yet I am prevented from doing all i would like to do, beyond the giving of my advice, which I offer to you freely, by the regulations of the United States govern- ment, which prevent my offering you the use of our plant here, with its tools, ma- terials, and drafting room. Unless—”’ The commandant paused. His hearers shuffled uneasily. Cyrus was trembling with intense anxiety. All day he had been alter- nately buoyed with hope and cast into de- spair. Now he would not be able to get back to Linkersport before dark, and he had almost made up his mind that he would have to go back. “Unless,” the suave officer continued, “you were in the service. In that event all would be different. The regulations - would not only permit, they would demand, that I extend to you the use of its property. Therefore all I can say to you is this: if you wish to enlist in the navy you will have every facility possible to develop any in- ventive idea.” He seemed through, and yet added, ap- parently as an afterthought, yet definitely: “That may prove of use to the eee: ment.” There was a swift let-down in the ten- sion. None of his audience looked at him directly. They looked sheepishly from one to another. None dared openly to criticize the officer, but these boys were not of the type that ordinarily go to sea. “ Think it over, boys,” the commandant concluded. “ It is an important decision, I know.” He withdrew to his private office. The six gathered in one knot, chatting. Cyrus, aside, overheard. “It’s for three years, nothing less,” one protested. “And surrender everything to Uncle Sam, I bet,” another ejaculated. “And toe the scratch for every small- time bully with a stripe on his sleeve,” a third growled. ‘And live in the steerage with jacks and roustabouts. Not on your life,” the fourth decided, and departed hastily. One by. one the others followed. In a few minutes Cyrus was alone. _ One bell struck. It was four thirty, The 171 workmen began filing out of the yard, their day done. Still, there remained three hours, at least, of daylight left. He could get back to Linkersport shortly after dark, and the motorcycle was still parked outside by the office. Only he needed gasoline, and he had no money. He had had no lunch. While he hesitated the commandant came out. Cyrus timidly approached him and asked: “If I enlist, sir, how can I get a chance to use the Navy Yard tools and materials?” “That ‘ll be easy,” replied the officer. “If you can pass the examinations I will see you are placed in the ordnance room as an apprentice draftsman.” This was the final answer to all his doubts. Thirty minutes later he was in the ser- vice of the United States, enlisted for three years. He sold the motorcycle to a second- hand shop on Fulton Street for enough to pay for his ditty box and his uniform, with an extra pair of khaki trousers. That night he wrote to Judge Vilas, told of the step he had taken, and asked to be advised about the disposition of his father’s estate, and to assure all creditors they would be paid in full. He passed the examinations required of these aspiring to clerical appointments, and within a week Commander Layton had him at work in the drafting room, where the officer of the day was Ensign Tenflair, Unfortunately for Cyrus» Commander Layton was relieved in his duty as com- mandant of the Navy Yard about this time. He had served his three years on shore and was assigned to command a scout cruiser. Cyrus never had any contact with his suc- He had to look for all opportunity - cessor, to Ensign Tenflair. The ensign, who had graduated near the head of his class and who had chosen ord- nance for his specialty, that being consid- ered the crack branch of the service, was looked upon, and looked upon himself, as one of the future stars of the navy. He rigidly maintained the traditional gulf be-. tween the enlisted man and the officer w - comicbook