Argosy All-Story Weekly, Vol. 189, No. 4 — page 78: what you’re looking at

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

548 temporary hospital, and the opportunity had passed. Meanwhile, Zeppelins came and went, or stayed and perished over darkened London, Serbia had collapsed, Russia had been crushed, a remnant of British troops had withdrawn, defeated, from Gallipoli, the armies of England and France, sore-bat- tered, strengthened their positions and held the line in the West, dreading the coming of spring and awaiting the coming of Kitch- ener’s Army—the sword of England, so slowly being forged beyond the sea. Men crowded into the London barracks —old soldiers with service ribbons on their tunics, and young recruits, wide-eyed with wonder at the sights of London town. They came from the seas and the countries be- yond—but mostly they came from the farms and towns and factories and mines. They came in squads from Camberham, were equipped with new bayonet, rifle, pack, and identification-disk, made their wills in their army pay-books and marched away. Then, with the first hint of spring, came the thunder from across the Channel, train- loads of wounded rolled into Victoria Sta- tion, long lines of stretchers were carried between the banks.of fearful and expectant women that lined the platform searching each white face that passed—and Harmon found his name listed. The bulletin-board outside the barrack room bore a terse and ominous typewritten message: The following officers, non-commissioned officers, and men are warned to be in readi- ness to proceed overseas to join the expedi- tionary force. Then followed a list of names and toward the end: Narley, M., Sgt., 2586 Ruffit, E., 9780 Baffin, J., 9775 Walton, P., 9601 Harmon, R., 9723 Tuesday, R., 9724 “ That’s more like it,” Tuesday ex- clai: ied happily. ‘‘ Now we’ll get a real chance to soldier. This peacetime soldier- ing never did suit me none anyway. When do we go?” ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. “You get four days’ leave first,” Tre- manner informed him. “A chance to give a farewell party, say your last words to your friends and so forth. How about it, Dick? You chaps want to spend it with me down in Surrey?” ‘“ But—your—your aunt. going to see her, too?” ‘Aunt Maud is a terror for traveling,” Tremanner grinned affectionately. ‘“‘ She’s in the north now somewhere making sure the war is being properly conducted in that quarter. I'll be lucky if I get a glimpse of her—and Denise—at the railway sta- tion before we leave. I’ll try and forward a letter to wherever she is to-night through the war hospital. In the meantime the three of us will celebrate conservatively with a few visits to the music-halls and four good nights’ sleep away from the barracks.” “Suits me,” Tuesday agreed, “so long as they don’t go off without us.” “Don’t worry,” Tremanner assured him. “They won’t forget you, if they have to send a corporal and four men after you to remind you. No easy changing regiments now and ‘ going over the hill.’ Once your name is down you’re for it and no mistake. You're as good as in France on active serv- 166,”: So Tuesday spent four pleasant days, with no Sergeant Narley to roar him out of bed in the mornings, and Harmon spent four rather dismal days in spite of the music- halls. Denise was everywhere, invisibly. He stood with Tremanner in the dust- covered studio, and could almost see the slim, straight figure in the high-backed old chair by the window. ‘Rather mournful looking, isn’t it?” Tremanner said, but whether he meant the absence of Denise or the gloomy aspect of the place, with its half-finished pictures that might never be finished and its easel that might never be used, he did not say. He was not the man to display his emotions for the world to gaze on in spite of his en- thusiasm over Kitchéner’s Army. Two days later the draft—two hundred strong—lined up on the drill-square within the gray-walled inclosure, Harmon and Tuesday and gawky Ruffit and Tremanner in the center and Narley, a grim ramrod of Aren’t you (e(6) DOOKS AMI (E@)