Pulp Fiction, 1924 · page 56 of 194
Adventure Magazine Cover, November 10, 1924 — page 56: what you’re looking at
A restored page from Pulp Fiction, 1924. Page through the whole issue in the reader above.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
54 “But sergeant. “No,” said the little man, waving his finger slowly back and forth in front of his nose, ‘‘not ten. You have now but eight.” “OUTSIDE!” bellowed Eadie. ‘‘Down- stairs! Everybody up! Rise and shine!”’ He leaped upon a running board and, thrusting head and shoulders into a com- partment, smote the nearest men on the nose. “Get ’em all-up,” he yelled, ‘‘five minutes to catch a train!” He ran from compartment to compart- ment, calling, yelling himself hoarse and commenting. He found no sign of the officer. : “Up, men, everybody up! Yay, Jake! Issue out the chow. Give every man all he can carry. Take it away! Heave it out. Come on, roll out of those blankets! I wish I was a swearing man, I’d say a few words! Come on! Here’s the train now!” Sure enough, it rolled into the station and the men rushed toward it, dragging blan- in ten minutes!” gasped the kets, blouses and unrolled puttees across the - platform. Some carried several loaves of bread, others dashed after cans of beans they had dropped, that rolled swiftly along the platform with devilish speed. “Get on,” cried Eadie. ‘Never mind where, but get on. Any one see any sign of the officer?” No one seemed to. Every one was too busy, climbing aboard, and the train went suddenly on its way without any waving of flags or any tooting of whistles. The last of the men was aboard, but there was quite a pile of. property on the platform, rifles, blankets, pack carriers and what not. The sergeant looked rapidly around, but there was no sign of the officer. - Mean- while the train gathered speed. The ser- geant began to run for the nearest car, but it was going too fast when he got to it. There was a commotion and a man leaped from the last car. It was Jake. He and the panting sergeant watched the train out of sight around a curve. ‘‘Jake, there’s a fine mess,” said the ser- geant. ‘“‘Away they’ve gone and they'll probably all be pinched. The Icoey has our travel orders. It’s just as well I didn’t get on.” = “YT would say,’’ commented Jake, ‘“‘that that looey is the limpest stick that I ever hooked up with in all my travels.” Adventure “You said it, Jake,”’ agreed the sergeant. Before the two had time to collect their thoughts the officer stood at their elbow, panting slightly and with his clothing some- what in disarray. | “Everything all. right, sergeant?” he asked. ‘No, sir,’’ answered the sergeant. ‘“The French got us up and gave us about ten minutes to get a train.” “Did all the men get it?” asked the lieutenant earnestly, while Eadie mar- veled that he took the. matter so calmly. Then Eadie had a sad thought that the officer had probably stopped in the station and knew about it already. . “Yes, sir,” said Eadie. -‘“They all got it except the two of us. . We didn’t want to abandon you, because. you might have met with an accident.”’ ‘When is the next train?” asked the lieutenant. Eadie inquired of one of the railway employees. “The Frog says ten o ‘clock, ” answered the sergeant. “Good,” said the Heutenan “T’ll see you then. I’m going back up town.” He went away at the trot. “Aha!” said Jake -sagely. “Monkey beezness.”’ The five hour that intervened before the departure of the next train the two spent in breakfasting from a can of hash that they found in one of the abandoned packs, in selling all the slickers and shoes that were in the pile that had been left behind and in wandering about the station. Eadie sought speech with a young soldier of about his own age who was attached to the com- missatre’s office. The commissaire was a military officer, and there was one:at every large station to supervise the troop movements through his particular railroad division. The young man with whom -Eadie conversed was an aspirant, a student officer, a grade that has no equivalent in the American service. The aspirant was hung with so many medals that it made him humpbacked. He was minus an arm and so lame that he could not walk without acane. “Alors, my: aspirant,” began Eadie, “I am the sous-off in-charge of the crowd of lice that went out of here on the four o’clock train. They have gone into the unknown. What will become of them?” The aspirant grinned. Comicboolk A) (© 5}