Adventure Magazine Cover, November 10, 1924 — page 49: what you’re looking at

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

The Casual’s Return “That’s a wild bunch up forward,” he remarked. ‘“‘They’ll probably kill one an- other before we’ve gone very far.” ‘“‘What’s the matter with ’em?” asked Jake. “They're all jailbirds an’ murderers,” said the corporal. “How does it happen you stayed with “T didn’t have the guts to commit suicide when I got assigned to the outfit.” The train rounding a curve at that mo- ment, the forward cars were displayed to the view of those in the chow car. Frenzied civilians in the customary black clothes waved umbrellas and hats from car win- dows. American troops could be seen mov- ing here and there, clinging to the running board that ran along the sides of the cars. More hung from windows, in that condition that usually obtains during the first few hours of a very rough passage at sea. “See,” said the corporal. “I told you. They’re all drunk.”’ “Where did they get it?” asked Eadie in mystified tones. = ‘They sent a Frog over to the bar with their canteens an’ got ’em full of wine.” “And I thought they were getting water,”’ muttered the sergeant. “T had a pull or two of that stuff,” said | Jake, “but it didn’t hit the right spot with me. It tasted about as much like vinegar as anything I can think of.”’ The train made a lengthy stop after a while. This was evidently a junction point or an important station, for there was a station on both sides of the track and a roof overhead. Song rent the air, as the train came to a stop. “Tooth paste ’n’ listerine, Mixed in his canteen Makes the li’l’ shavetail’s Face turn a bright green.” There was a sound of crashing wood and the tinkle of glass, and the soldiery swarmed to the platform. Immediately half a dozen fights started. The men were in undress uniform to say the least. Many of them wore their undershirts, and all had removed their blouses and O.D. shirts. All of them had off their puttees, and their stockings had rolled about their shoes and displayed several inches of hairy ankle between shoe top and breeches bottom. Some fought and seme sang. The French civilians applauded. 47 Eadie, peering from the door in horror, saw the lieutenant in command, standing on the fringes of the crowd. The sergeant descended from the car and hurried across the platform. The lieutenant spoke to him first. “What does this mean, sergeant?” he said. ‘I left you in charge and you allowed these men to get all rammed up to a million. What are you wearing those stripes for?” Eadie had nothing to say. He swallowed his tongue several times and was about to speak, but again the officer was first. ““Get them back in the cars,’ he ordered. “Don’t let this happen again.” “Shall I post a guard?” asked Eadie. “Use your own judgment,” replied the officer. 3 Eadie regarded the milling soldiers. If he was to get them aboard the train, he must work fast. 7 “Hey, Jake,” he called, “I promote you to lance corporal right now. You and the other corporal come out of that car and give me a hand.”’ Jake jumped down, tucking up his sleeve, and the fat corporal followed him. “‘What’s your name?” Eadie asked the corporal. 3 “Joy,” answered he. “And well and rightly named,” com- mented Eadie. ‘Lend a hand to getting these passengers aboard again. Come on, gang! Back in the cars again!” Some of the men climbed in willingly enough. Others refused to have their fight interrupted. These had to be pried apart and lifted into the cars. Eadie dug some half dozen or so out of the crowd and dragged another six or seven out of the in- terior of the station and, having loaded on the few remaining men by heaving them bodily into the cars, shut the door cf the last compartment, and sat down on the running-board to mop his brow. ake and the corporal had disappeared. Well, the men were all safely in the cars, anyway, and the lieutenant would have no kick on that score. rolled a wild chorus. Give us a barrel of whisky, Sugar a hundred pound, A six-inch gun to mix it in, 3 A spade to stir it round. We'll sit on the steps o’ the guardhouse, An’ hear all the people say, “To ——- with the W. C. T. U. And the Army Y. M. C. A.” Comicboook From the other side of the train A) (© =