Adventure Magazine Cover — page 65: what you’re looking at

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

to that rare privilege, and that not so much beef. oo -you something though. as a taste of slumgullion or the scraping of a pot was to be given to the straggler or the stranger. All the cooks and K. P.’s and mess ser- geants of the A. E. F. read this order and admitted its necessity and wisdom, and thereafter, as before, the stranger in Uncle Sam’s olive-drab needed no other creden- tialg to get the best in the shack and a seat by the fire. Such was the unwritten law: Better that ten good-for-nothings be fed than that one good soldier out of luck be turned away hungry. So it was that, when the travelers emerged from the woods and saw the out- lines of one of Uncle’s restaurants across the fields and the twinkle of fire behind it, they made for it rejoicing like hungry men who sight the chimneys of home. They trotted into the mess-shacks and up to the counter that barred the approach to the sacred domain of the kitchen. Three K. P.’s were behind the counter, busy after their kind, toasting bread on the hissing field-range and sampling a can of blackberry jam and resting up to roll a cigaret between blows upon a stubborn log. A man with a smear of bacon-grease and soot across his face sat in a chair reading the Stars and Stripes and smoking a yellow cigar. “How about a bite?” inquired the Mer- chant. ‘“You’re early,” fast is ready at seven. said the man.’ “Break- I guess I can give Birch, fix him up.” Kamerad had entered the kitchen and promptly sank his teeth in a hind quarter of The cook hurled a bone at his head. It was caught on the fly with thanks, and Kamerad retired through the rear door and behind the wood-pile to worry it. “Fine dog,” said the cook to the Mer- chant, who was blowing on a tin dish full of thin oatmeal. ‘‘TIs his leg broke?”’ ; “Not yet,” mumbled the guest through a full mouth. “He runs that way, having no hands to scratch.” “There’s sugar for your Java. What out- fit are you?” “Headquarters troop from Toxerre.” “Try that jam on your bread. Where are you going?” ~ “Into Toxerre.” “Have some milk.” The cook placed the oe ~ ‘eo * ——— bs — rik ey ee a, **> can dior | his guest. “py send you in on the ration-wagon after mess. geant will be here in a minute.” “What outfit is this?’’ queried the Mer- ~ chant when his appetite had slackened. “The to—th, military police company. What’s your hurry?” “TI got to be going. Where’s that pide of mine got to now? So-long, cookie, and | thanks.” “Here’s the sergeant now,” cook after the speeding guest. minute, will your? Hey, sarge, here’s a fellow wants to go into Toxerre. He can go on the ration-wagon, can’t he?” Four young men wearing the red ads black brassard of the Military Police had come through the doorway of the shack, together with the sergeant addressed. They barred the Merchant’s flight. “Sure,” said the sergeant, a_keen-eyed old regular with a windburnt neck and a red and wrinkled countenance. ‘Who is her”’ “One of headquarters troop,” explained the cook. ‘‘He’s going in to report.” The sergeant looked the Merchant over cried the 99 sharply, noting with practised eye the ab- . sence of the cap and collar ornaments which tell the wearer’s company, regiment and branch of the service. “Headquarters troop,” he repeated. ‘‘Got a pass, buddy?” ‘I’m Captain Peters’ orderly,” explained the Merchant. Champigneulles to get him a chicken for supper tonight for him and the adjutant. The pass is all right, sergeant.” “Sure it is,” said the sergeant. “I don’t know the captain, but I’d like to oblige the adjutant, only our orders today are strict. Sorry, buddy, but we got no discretion. I couldn’t pass my brother today, not after the orders we got. I’ll send you in to Toxerre and you can get the captain to straighten it out. You want to go there anyway, don’t you? “Take him outside, Jerry, and put him with the rest. Don’t worry, buddy, the captain will take care of you.” About twenty doughboys whom: the night patrol had collected sat outside the shack, and Jerry added the Merchant to their number with an explanatory word o the guard. “Take them in to Toxerre,’’ directed ther sergeant, appearing in the doorway. “And The ser- ze “Wait up a “He sent me over. to” ‘