Argosy All-Story Weekly, April 14, 1928 — page 123: what you’re looking at

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

THE WEST POINT ROMEOS, Bill had received no answer to his remark. ““ Hey, Jack! See the one I mean?” Jack returned to earth. His voice sounded almost guilty as he replied: “Yeh. Isn’t it a shame?” Jack was the weaker of the two roommates. Neither had any scruples against looking at, or commenting up- on, pretty girls. But when it came to anything closer than ten feet, they balked. There were times, however, when Jack had dreams. If he had Bill’s good lcoks— But who could love a freckled-faced, red-haired cadet, with nothing special to recommend him but an ability to use his fists? Another voice interrupted Jack’s musing and Bill’s observations of the girl in the gray fur coat. 3 “You fellows have got a nerve!” A second-class color corporal stand- ing beside Bill had spoken. “That femme you two are so coolly dissecting happens to be the girl J am dragging to the hop to-morrow night.” Buford Hayes, the color corporal raved on: a “ Boy, she’s some girl, too! Got any- thing that ever came up the river from New York stopped a mile. Too bad you fellows are such woman haters. I’d give you each a hop with her to- morrow night, if you weren't.” Buford felt perfectly safe in making his magnanimous offer. The two color sergeants rarely went to hops, and when they did, it was to eat, and not to dance. ' The roar of the evening gun put an end to further conversation. The long, gray line presented arms. Even the girl in the squirrel coat stood up. Slowly and gracefully the flag flut- tered down from its high perch atop the tall, white pole. Soon the line swung into column, and began its fa- mous march past the reviewing officers. As the colors went by, the girl rose 261 gracefully to her feet. Jack, glancing out of a corner of his eye, saw a face that disturbed him. iif. THE next day was Saturday. In cadet life, Saturday is the best day of the week. Everything happens then; that is, everything that is fun. Classes are over at noon. Even the terrible weekly inspection, which oc- curs immediately after lunch, is quick- ly forgotten in the round of social ac- tivities which follows. Girls came from everywhere. Girls in fur coats, and small, chic hats. Laughing, bright-eyed, they rested small hands on stalwart gray sleeves, and watched the athletic contests in the gymnasium. But in the evening— | In the mess hall, supper had just been finished, and the command to rise had been given. Old Grant Hall had housed the cadets at meal times for the greater part of a century. It had seen many Saturday nights. And each Sat- urday night was the same. ‘The cares and worries of the past week are forgotten. Morale is high. Animated conversation and spontane- ous laughter everywhere. Through the wide, central door, a turbulent stream of men flowed out into the street, where companies were forming. Arm in arm, Bill Fenton and Jack Delany were swept along in the crowd. They walked on through the Novem- ber darkness, feeling their chests ex- pand with the clear, cold air. Plebes were howling dismally in the streets, exhorted by upper classmen ex- cited by the hugeness of a low hang- ing, white moon. There were restless stirrings in Jack Delany’s breast. He looked dreamily at the pale moon in the east. In his mind he saw a girl, a girl clad in a short, gray squirrel coat. Crossed legs in gray silk. Gomichbooks (EO) a* wef, P ’ “A - PWD a FAA ne”) Pe ae Oe ere ae A Wy ta tan NF i