Argosy, Vol. 85, No. 3 — page 131: what you’re looking at

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

“IT WAS WAR.” us. But their singing would have its psy- chological effect on the seven men who, cheerless themselves, though with good cheer within arm’s reach, must know their superiors were thoroughly enjoying them- selves. Our. men took it out in loud laughter, in requests for ‘ schnapps” or beer in a tone that could not fail to reach the audi- ence above. But it was an unconscionably long time before we saw one of our guar- dians step to the edge of the pier to look down on their mirth. Tom Healey tried to make something of this slender opportunity. ‘Hello, up there!” he called good-hu- moredly. ‘ Wollen trinken?” It was probably the limit of his Ger- man. I had learned enough in the past week to catch the drift of the sour re- sponse: “Not with the enemies of my father- land.” ‘““Oh, Lord!” groaned Louie in my ear. “That settles it. He’s put the bug in their ears. Once give a Dutchman the idea that eating his dinner is disloyal to something he ought to be loyal to—and he’ll starve to death. I reckon I know. My father— ‘“‘ But, great Heaven! What are we going to do now? It’s after nine. We've got to be moving at ten-thirty or miss the top of the tide. We can’t jump up there and expect to get away with a silent fight that will knock out as many of them as there are of us. ‘‘Oh, what a fool I was not to see this! Surely Rudy never worked out this part of the deal. That girl must have been reading nickel libraries all her life. Dope seven men all at once! Well—this settles us.” ; It was my turn to try to encourage, though I must say I couldn’t just locate the cheer stuff to use for the job. “If she planned this, you can bet your last dollar she will see it through,” I prophesied in as nearly as possible a tone of belief in what I could not help realiz- ing was not so. 473 And then, as if I had brought it about by speaking it, the girl was there. My heart almost stopped as I heard her clear voice answering the challenge of the cor- poral. “Oh, I thought you boys would be lone- some so far away from the fun. Anyhow, I don’t feel up to batting with those bunches to-night. Who are you all here anyhow? Hello, Hans—Hello, Gus— why, Karl! Did they stick you down here with them Americans, too?” I could catch her German words be- tween those she spoke in English. Her tone was one to make a man forget any but the most important duties to his fatherland or his own father. ‘What you got to drink?” she asked, when they had all got within easy hear- ing of her voice. ‘‘ What—coffee? Nichts besser als das? Ach—Gott in Himmel! I want a real drink. Hey, you Ameri- cans!. Hand us up something wet before you all get so gebummelt you don’t know your bottles from your glasses. “Beer? Say, you’ve got some swell notions of prison life down there, ain’t you? Give us some wine. Give us some of that bitter wine off the Italian ship. I liked that. Bet none of you ever tasted it. Just imagine it’s wops’ blood, and it ll go down good. Hey—goin’ to get that wine, or ain’t you? We'll come down and take it, if you say so.” Charley Prince, our steward, nearly toppled down the companionway to the galley, calling back to know if there were clean glasses on deck—just as we had in- structed should be done, in order that the glasses should be the ones we held in readiness. He hurried back with an armload of bottles. Tom Healey came up with a tray. We handed him seven mugs that tinkled as we.tried to hold them. ‘“‘And here’s one wine-glass for the lady,” Louie mentioned genially, as he added it to the trayful of mugs, each moist at the bottom with the water it had taken to soften a chloral tablet. __ Charley waited on them with the grace comicloool C©