Adventure Magazine Cover, June 20, 1925 — page 63: what you’re looking at

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

A Sergeant THE man ran by about his ) business. A German appeared from somewhere, a_ black-faced man with a three days’ growth of beard, and a little round cap around his ears. He engaged in a bicker with a Yank, and proved to be the better man. Then he advanced on Nell. Nell decided to go elsewhere, and raised a little cloud of dust doing it. “Hey, wait for me,” called the hard- boiled man, and pausing to shoot the black-faced German, he followed Nell. “You better get a rifle,’ he panted, in Nell’s ear, when he had caught up with him. “You hadn’t ought to be chasin’ around without one. If one o’ these birds happens to get mad at you, you want to have some- thin’ to talk back with. Here’s a good hole, let’s catch our breath!” “No,” cried Nell. ‘Don’t let this gang get stopped again. We’ve got these jerries worried, let’s shove ’em good. If we once get into the town we can hold it till ZOeS out. Follow me!”’ he cried, as loudly as he could for his dry throat. ‘‘Follow me!’’ Some near at hand heard and echoed his shout. | ‘Keep goin’!’ they called. town!”’ Some followed Nell, some stayed behind to finish what they were doing. Still others could not advance because the enemy in front outnumbered them. The contending forces swayed back and forth a few seconds like wrestlers before a fall. In pitched fights like this, but one force can be victor, there is no halfway decision possible, and the side that has the most determination wins. The Americans, after having been pounded since daylight by bullet, grenade and shell, ducked in the river, and burned by the sun in the fields, once thrown back and almost routed, were at last at hand grips with their enemy, within reach of the town and victory and they would not be denied. They gave a solemn shout, more a croak than a cheer, and every man calling up his last strength, fired his last cartridge, hurled his last grenade, and rushed forward with the bayonet. The Germans recoiled, gave ground, turned, broke, and scattered in wild flight. The Americans followed and a fearful snarl- ing crowd of both armies swept into the town, and jammed in the narrow streets, “Into the of Cavalry 45 continued the battle there. Germans poured from door, window and cellar entrance. Some fought. Others surrendered and a of a lot of good it did them. Nell pursued a German that ran before him. This German had a rifle and Nell wanted it. At his side galloped the hard- boiled man, whooping. The two of them caught up with the German and leaped up- on his back. When Nell arose he had the rifle and was looking into the business end. of several more that protruded from a door. “Git ’em!” he croaked, and only hoping that he would reach one before he was killed, he lunged forward. | He knew the rifles went off, for he felt the blast of their discharge, then he was through the door and shoving an impaled German against the wall. A table went over, and a man tripped in its cloth and went headlong into a cupboard fuil of pans that clanked dolefully. A flower pot ona window sill jumped a little, and dissolved into dirt and fragments. ‘If there is in hell any such turmoil and noise as there was in that narrow street, then it must be hell indeed. There was the continuous explosion of grenades, the crash of shells and the wild yells, now distant, now under the very windows, of men gone back to their first beginnings and clawing at each other’s throat. There was no rifle shooting, the Americans wanted to feel their antagonists under their blows. Butts, bayonets and naked hands were the things. There was a sound of pounding feet. Some Yanks had just crowded in the door, but finding no one but two of their own men went out again. Nell jerked his blouse from the locked fingers of the men he had _ fought with and got up. Where was the hard-boiled man? The house shook as though it were built on the side of a track. and a train going by. Bits of plaster and little clouds of dust filled the air. The trembling of the house and the rattling, noise continued. ‘““There’s a gun upstairs!” shrieked Nell. The hard-boiled man was by the fireplace tugging at the overturned table. Nell, without knowing why, helped him to right it, and shove it out into the room, close to the front wall. The hard-boiled man leaped upon it, and clutching his rifle, crouched, and then with a gasping effort, shoved upward with his bayonet through Co DOOK ANC CO