Adventure Magazine, December 10, 1924 — page 42: what you’re looking at

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

20 “Plessons and I are going after them— outflank ’em.” “But you won’t be long?” “—. no;__ And for ’s sake don’t let us down, Alick. Remember they’ll get you sure if youdo. Give them a parting volley. Now! Come along, Plessons!”’ As Tony snaked along, taking cover— and fortunately there was plenty—he felt jubilant; something to fight out in the open, something that was tangible, in- stead of the subterranean and incompre- hensible plotting, was a relief; and afforded, although he wasn’t aware of it, a safety valve. How many they were up against he hadn’t the remotest notion. Their mutual - plan was to work back and down to the level of the bamboo grove, creep along in the shadow and so take the attackers in the rear. Again they heard four ragged shots from Bodiker and Sawyer. Their progress was necessarily slow—at least until they got well beneath the crest of the hill. “Say,” whispered Tony to Plessons after a while, “I think there’s something funny about those fellows opening fire at long range. Why didn’t they stalk up and hold us up?” ““Maybe they hadn’t any idea how many we were—same as we don’t. But they’re mighty rotten shots. We was standin’ up like a couple of buffalo, and then they couldn’t hit us!”’ “Sssh?’ warned Tony, peering round a slab of rock. “TI believe there’s something moving down there. See? In line with the peak of the northern volcano. And I’ve got a hunch they’re trying to play the same stunt as we are! Yes, it 7s moving! And by the lord, the mutt’s wearing a white helmet! Dead, boy, dead! Until they walk on top of us!” ‘“‘Two!” whispered Plessons a little later. Lying behind separate ledges of rock they peeked through tufts of grass and scrub, their khaki clothes and veld hats blending with the hillside. The two white helmets were as conspicuous as a lantern on a dark night; nor did the owners, evidently con- fident that their quarry was still on the crest of the hill, take much trouble to con- ceal themselves, but rushed from boulder to boulder, stooping. In a few minutes they were within fifty yards, and Tony could distinguish the black beard of one, and the Adventure pallid, round face of the other, a peasant type. Just as Tony, remarking that Bodiker hadn’t been firing for some while, had put down his rifle and drawn his revolver, he noticed that both of the strangers were ex- posing themselves recklessly; were almost standing up as they gazed toward the crest. The falling of a stone and a faint shout made both Tony and Plessons look in the same direction. Between two rocks Tony caught a glimpse of Bodiker’s lanky body running directly toward them. “What in ’s the fool doing?” he mut- tered, and then, glancing at the strangers saw the black-bearded fellow in full view, leaning on a boulder leveling his rifle toward Bodiker. Instantly Tony’s revolver flashed. As the man slumped out of sight Plessons’ rifle cracked and the fellow’s companion wheeled about and dived upon his head. Rushing toward them, Tony saw Bodiker with Sawyer behind him, and in the former’s hand was a white handkerchief. Quelling his amazement, Tony sprang toward the strangers. ‘They were Germans, both in frayed and patched uniforms. The bigger fellow with. a black beard and blue glasses, an officer, had got a forty-five right under his left temple as he had sighted his rifle and was as dead as boiled fowl. The younger man had taken Plessons’ rifle bullet through the left temple. As Tony and Plessons turned about they saw Bodiker staring at them blankly, the handkerchief still in his hand. Behind him stood Sawyer, who, as they looked, snatched at the handkerchief and tried to throw it behind a rock. ‘What in ——’re you doing?’”’ demanded Tony angrily as he strode toward them. “We plugged em! Got ’em kerplunk!’’ yelled Sawyer as if that explained every- thing. “Yes,” agreed Bodiker, recovering his tongue. “Sawyer shot him. Only one. A native.” ‘The bird went right up in the air,” con- tinued Sawyer like an excited child. ‘(Come down on his nut, Mr. Westlake, dead’rn yes’day’s noos!”’ | “But,” said Tony sharply, ‘‘what’s that got to do with butting in here with a white flag?” ‘‘Flag?”’ mumbled Bodiker, peering about stupidly. CoMmichoolk A) (© 5}