Adventure Magazine Cover, October 30, 1924 — page 178: what you’re looking at

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

168 Adventure “Gosh!” he breathed. Again he focussed his gaze on a battered town from whose edge a tumbled-down shack stared down at him in mutual recog- nition. “‘Gosh!”’ he said. vil ee ‘““Vitasse,’’ prompted some eavesdropper. Tobin wheeling round confronted Stokes, the scout officer. “You called it, sir,’ Tobin asserted. “Tt’s in heinie’s line, ain’t it?”’ Stokes peered through his binoculars. “Not supposed to be,” he said, “‘but last night when we muddled in here I got a glimpse of a heinie gun firing from that place—I’d bet a hat on it.” ‘“‘Not supposed to be?” queried Tobin, eager for information. “No! Brigade—old Birdseed and Jamie- son and that crowd, you know—say posi- tively that the boche isn’t closer than five hundred yards. However, I think they’re guessing.” *“More’n likely,”’ grinned Tobin. “I’ve got to set them right, Tobin.” “Is ’at so?” *‘And tonight, too. and I think you’ll do.” “Is ’at sop Really, I’d love the job. Last night’s trip in was so dull and unin- terestin’.”’ Stokes poked Tobin in the ribs. his face worked. “Talking seriously,”’ he went on, ‘I’m sure brigade’s wrong. All they’re going by is the map the Imperials turned over to Artillery. I’ve seen that map—studied every contour of it an hour ago, back at the C. O.’s pill box. And I think it lies.” “The pill box?” asked Tobin, jokingly. “No! The map—you kidder.”’ ‘Lies, how?” “This way! It’s got our front line back six hundred yards farther than we really are.”’ “Don’t savvy.” “Neither do I—unless—unless the Gor- dons whom we relieved moved forward after they sent in that map and neglected to advise on their change of position.” ‘‘Cripes!”” gasped Tobin, quick to grasp the significance of it all. “Cripes! That would mean our own barrage might fall = “Just about where we stand now,”’ in- terrupted Stokes. “My ol’ friend, Noo- I want one volunteer ‘Then “Our fellows would get it both comin’ and goin’?”’ “Exactly.” ““Great—great Peter! own guns!” Stokes was again studying the town on the hill. ‘Place isn’t worth much,” he commented. Tub Tobin’s eyes sparkled. “It’s you that’s guessin? now, Mr. Stokes.” He felt like entrusting Stokes with his tale of the little Casino. Discern- ing his boss’s bewilderment he continued: Shot up by our “Not much—if you consider a hundred : thousand francs not much.” Stokes laughed and said: “When did you become a real estate valuator, Tobin?”’ “Never,” scorned Tobin. ‘Safe-crackin’s my side line.”’ “‘Safe-cracking?”’ “Sure ’nough—and tonight while we’re prowlin’ for knowledge I may knock off the joint that’s got all this bullion.” Stokes clapped Tobin on the shoulder. “For ’s sake what are you talking about? What have you been drinking?” “Not a thing! DT’ve sworn off ‘Coney’ and the ‘Vin’ sisters. They play , L’ve found, with a guy’s pronunciation.” Stokes’ amazement increased. “What you need, Tobin, is sleep. Go get it.” Pop-pop-pop-pop! A Lewis firing on their left Bang - bang- bang-bang! Heinie whizz- bangs after the road behind them. ‘—if you can,” added Stokes, calmly. “You'll need a clear head, tonight, son, or you and your safe-cracking ideas may Jand in your own soup.” ning mist had long since obscured the German line when Stokes and Tobin slipped out on their little job of set- ting brigade right. ‘Keep close,”’ cautioned the officer and he gripped Tobin’s arm in fellowship. “Betcha life,”’ whispered Tobin. Together they crept up the road to Neu- ville Vitasse, pausing once at a shrill sighing of the wind through long grass at the road’s edge—again, with a mad flop, as a rabbit scurried across their path. It seemed eter- nity before the tumble-down shack of the ridge blurred up before them. Vay) THE ghostlike fingers of an early eve- } COMmiclbooks nn)