Argosy All-Story Weekly, February 18, 1928 — page 113: what you’re looking at

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

FOR COUNTRY. Nelson walked by on the far side of the street. The shop owner saw him, and ceased his chatter. He grasped Simores by the arm and pointed to the officer. “There,” he whispered sharply, “ that is the officer who commanded the gringos fighting on this street. He had a cannon at the next corner. I saw it all from the rooftop where I was hiding. Shells were fired into that big house opposite the plaza. See—you can observe the great hole in the wall!” “ What!” man?” He concealed his face behind his com- panion’s shoulder so that Nelson might not recognize him. His heart began to thump with trium- phant hope. “Did you see a boy there in that house?” he demanded. “Un muchacho? Si, si, senor! That officer went into the house after his cannon exclaimed Simores. “ That TO BE CONTINUED NEXT Le 911 had wrecked it, and he came out with a boy in his arms, laughing like the swine the gringos are. The boy was dead. I myself saw him placed on a stretcher that he might be carried away and burned.” “Did you see the boy taken away?” “Well, no, nor. The gringos began shooting right and left at the moment in the next street. I am a poor man, Senor, and I fled for my life.” “Are you sure the boy was dead?” “Of a certainty! He was white as mar-- ble except where he was covered with sangre, red and smeared.” Simores arose abruptly and’ hastened away. He saw at last a lever with which he should be able to move Patria profound- ly, and at the same time wreak personal vengeance upon Nelson for daring to be at- tracted to the girl. He upbraided himself for not having thought of the expedient before. The ethics of the matter disturbed kim not at all. WEEK Le} U AFTER A CRUISE Y. system being what it is And billows what they are, I never would (1 know it!. be worth my salt ) as a tar. Try as I may to be discreet I can’t keep either head or feet; And circumspect as I may be The bow is You see! always stern to me: I’m all at sea at sea! If there are sails their pale expanse Fill me with crushing awe; I marvel at the soaring masts, A funnel’s reeking maw. Thus dazed, no doubt, are alien eyes By these grim towers that arise Amid the city’s rush and roar. Ah, zow I know, if not before, Why tars are all at sea ashore! Edward W. Barnard. SGomiue JOOKS 4 (EO)