Argosy All-Story Weekly, February 12, 1927 — page 16: what you’re looking at

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

10 outlook on life, congenial surroundings, and the respect of a world that idolized the man in uniform—these things were working their subtle magic, transforming him into a different being from the sullen, soured ex-convict who had stepped aboard the local at Ossining, Toward the end of the second week, dur- ing one of the rest periods in the park, Captain Donovan called him aside. “T had a talk with Jennings this morn- ing,” the captain said. ‘I’m pushing him up a step. He’ll be a sergeant. That leaves a vacancy for a corporal, and practically all his squad are new men. Jennings men- tioned your name for the place when | asked him to suggest some one. 3 “To tell you the truth, I’d been thinking of the same thing. I think you have a good way with the men in the squad, and you seem to be catching on faster than the rest. Do you want to take over as acting cor- poral?” Stewart’s look of surprise and pleasure was sufficient answer, even if he did expe- rience difficulty finding his voice imme- diately. “ All right,” Captain Jim smiled. “ We'll see how you make out at it. Don’t thank me now. I’m loading more work on your shoulders, for one thing. But I guess you'll get your corporal’s stripes all right.” ‘The rest of the drill period Stewart walked on thin air. Later he and several others were detailed to wait behind to load a truck with the equipment used during the day in practice shelter-tent pitching, while the rest marched off to the armory. Stewart, by himself in a corner of the meadow, leaned back against a pile of shelter-halves, and gave himself over to the. cool of the evening, the enjoyment of a brier pipe, and the pleasant thought of a corporal’s stripes. The first two, after a hard day’s work, usually constitute a recipe for day-dream- ing, and Stewart had not reached the cynical age when a day-dream is a thing to be scorned. The groups.of spectators who had gathered to watch the maneuvers of the Double Eights drifted toward home. Corporal Hull! It had a pleasant sound— ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. day that whole mess would be straightened out, after the war, perhaps, when Corporal Hull—Sergeant Hull, maybe—got back from the war a returning hero reinstated in the respect of the world, formally declared innocent, the record of his service with the flag to back him up, decorated, perhaps— who knows? So many things happen in war; the chance might come to distinguish himself—a medal, a place in the com- munity, honored, by friends, and— “ Mr. Soldier!” CHAPTER V. MARTHA LANE. TEWART snapped out of his castle in S Spain with a jerk, and scrambled to his feet, grabbed his pipe from his mouth, and almost fumbled it, spilling the ashes over his blouse. The cause of his confusion gazed up at him from a slim height of five feet two with a devastating calmness in her shad- owed gray eyes and an appreciative smile lurking somewhere in the curves of her lips. It is not unpleasant to demure eighteen to watch tall young men fumble around when she speaks to them. Nor is it unpleasant, though a trifle dis- concerting, for a young man to snap out of a castle in Spain and bump right into the prettiest girl he had ever seen outside a magazine cover. “You spoke to me?” Stewart asked, re- covering his pipe and wits at one grab. . Yes, T had no idea soldiers: were sO easily startled. I was about to ask you what those things were all wrapped up— bombs?” ‘“Er—no. Not exactly,’ Stewart ex- plained, careful not to offend this goddess in orchid georgette by smiling. ‘“ They’re tents—rolled up. Bombs are—er—more explosive; metal, you know.” ‘“You must think me stupid,” she con- fessed; “ and I know I shouldn’t have dis- turbed you with such a foolish question. You must be tired after your drilling.” _Stewart shook his head. “Not at all. Ll be glad to aon a pews the contr ae Disnsentcy: pee ie cans onyicte all. ane tion ee ae Se ee comicbooks.com