The Argosy, Vol. 76, No. 3 — page 188: what you’re looking at

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

658 A deputation waited on the colonel. They were Moros in an unknown guise. They disclaimed knowledge of the kid- naping. It was the work of outlaws who should be brought to book. The colonel was their father and their mother, he was the man in the moon, and the great king crocodile of the trackless swamps. Would he re- lent? They would make a treaty. They swore on the beard of the Prophet there should be no more run- ning amuck in the market. They of- fered hostages. They would scour the hills. * You'll scour Hades,” colonel with diplomacy. “I'll do the scouring here. There won’t be enough of you left to make a treaty. Go back.”’ ; There is no telling’ what might have happened at midnight, and speculation is unnecessary. At eleven-thirty the telephone from the main gate guard rang, and the sergeant, almost too ex- cited to speak connectedly, got through a message that was understood. “Private Conroy, at the main gate- guard—sober a day ahead of time— and he’s brought in little Buzzy.” “T couldn’t tell you where it was, and you oughtn’t for to ask,” was Conroy’s story. “I wuk up, by the taste and the sound, just after a hos- pital sergeant had poured three quarts of Squibbs mixture down me at the battle of San Juan Hill. “It wasn’t a battle, though. I was some place in the bukids, and just ahead of me a pinwheel was spinnin’. By and by it slowed and stopped, and I see it was a coco-lamp in a nipa house. “TI wanted a drink of water worse’n Dives, and I crawled up cautious and looked in. The place was full -of Moros. The room where the window was was filled with ’em, and one old squaw was whoopin’ sick—cholera for all I know—they’re that onconsarned. ‘‘ She was too dippy to see and the rest of them was sleepin’. Through answered the. THE ARGOSY. the door where the light was a one- eyed Beelzebub and a _ pock-marked scarecrow was squatted on their hunk- ers, a board balanced on their four knees, a playin’ chest, and so deep in the game they wouldn’t ha’ heard the crack o doom. “What nearly bugged me over was that, sittin’ not three feet from me, his eyes as big as dollars and all dirty with tears, was little Buzzy Fancher. “I was afraid to breathe for fear he’d be scairt and say someat. He didn’t. That boy’s smart. He’ll be President some day. He just dropped to his hands and crept to me. “ Well, you can move when you're in a room and attrac’ no attention, but go in or out of it and it’s goin’ to be noticed. I didn’t lose no time. “T streaked, and as we went I heard that chest-board drop, and voices in.a hullabaloo. We had a start of ’em, but not enough. “Up a tree!’ says Buzzy, Frank, in “ The Red Rover ”’—they go under you, you know.’ It was the only chancet, so up a tree we went, and they streaked under us almost too quick to think about. “ But we moved too soon. Some old Jame trailer was hobblin’ behind. He heard the rustle and looked up. I dropped on him, and before he could squeal I twisted his neck and we doubled back. “Tt may be fun for Buzzy, sneakin’ through the dark woods with your heart .turnin’ to a lump of ice every time you step on a twig or see a gray, barked stump loomin’ up like a banshee in your front—but it ain’t no fun for me. After a while we run into Cor- poral -Sleak’s squad on the edge of town, and that’s all they is of it—only I'd like to ha’ been here and help hustle Moros.” . Buzzy’s father carried the boy back home and held him there, while the three surgeons held a consultation, in which they finally decided that it would be safe to let his mother see him. ‘like. COMicdoo S CO@