Adventure Magazine Cover, October 30, 1924 — page 151: what you’re looking at

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

Best Bugler in the World “Oh, I see,” acknowledged the man be- hind the bar, falling in with the whimsy. “Right ye are, an’ we'll have another one on me, if you’ve got the time to spare.”’ Gray hesitated. He did not wish to be delayed. But the whisky he had swal- lowed was warming him and calling for more. He succumbed. “‘Reckon I have time for one more,” he agreed, “for the Chief’s sake.” The bartender set out the quart bottle again with three fresh glasses. Gray poured three fingers for himself and likewise three for Cart, and the proprietor filled his own glass. : ““Here’s to a reunion in a soldier’s heav- en,” he said splendidly, raising his glass. _, The two in the flesh raised their glasses to each other, then both to the one who was present only in vision. They drank. _“They’re replanting him down there now, ain’t they?’ the bartender asked. _ “Getting ready to; yes, sir.” “Cart was a great old wagon.” “You knew him well?” Gray inquired conversationally. “Knowed him well? Say—I soldiered with him in Fort Sam Houston an’ the Islands. I was with him—did he ever tell ye how he rode the water-buffalo into the fightin’ to save—no? Well, say, you’ve got somethin’ comin’ in that story. It was like this ) Gray gave a puzzled look back over his shoulder, trying in a troubled way to re- member what it was he should be doing, but as the barman went ahead with his story the old bugler hooked his elbows over the bar and settled down to enjoyment of the yarn. The telling required some time, and when it was finished there were tears in Gray’s faded eyes. “Heroic,”’ he murmured. the lifc.”’ The bartender was so pleased with his successful spinning of the tale that he was renewedly liberal. “Have another’n,” he invited. “Ol time’s sake.” Again three glasses were filled and drunk. “Reminds me—” ‘The bartender chuck- led. “Once Cart’s outfit turned out for a colonel’s funeral and - “Funeral!” Gray’s mind came to atten- tion. ‘Maybe I’d better be going. ’Scuse “Qld Chief to I4I me. See you later.’ With an overwhelming sense of guilt at idling so long and sick. with the thought that he had again missed bugling for old Cart, Gray went hustling toward the ceme- tery, and when he came within sight, to his immeasurable relief he saw that nothing had gone too far, but that all was in readi- ness for the service. Approaching nearer, arriving at the place at last, he beheld all the proper elements of such a military affair—chaplain, and a | spic and span squad to fire the final salute, and himself as the official bugler. He was dizzy, could not see well, but he understood when it came his time to sound the great call to glory. He stepped forward briskly. Old Chief Cart would hear and see and know all about it! It was a fine, stir- ring thought. Gray raised the shiny bugle to his lips. He filled his lungs, reared back, and begun to sound off. But he made the great mis- take of his military career. For instead of playing Taps he played the raucous, helter- skelter, noisy-go-lucky shatterer of funeral stillness—Reveille. Oh, I can’t get ’em up, I can’t get ’em up, I can’t get ’em up this morrrrning! The stiff-back shave-tail in command of the firing squad shot a look at his men. Their young faces had the grim set expres- sion of “attention,” but their eyes were twinkling uncontrollably. The lieutenant stepped back to where Gray could not see and hissed out to the squad: “Tf you men ever tell this on him while he’s on earth I'll make you wish you hadn’t! Get me?” Contrary to all rules and regulations for men at attention, there came conspirators’ nods and mutterings from the line. And even the chaplain laid a finger across his mouth in token that he joined them in the promise of silence. A moment later Chief Musician Gray, now the best bugler in the world, with head up and chest out, was marching away by himself all unaware of his mistake, filled with the warmth of a promise well kept and duty well done. “Old Chief Cart,” said the chaplain softly, ‘would understand and forgive him. He meant right.” GO DOOLK C© in