Argosy All-Story Weekly, July 11, 1925 — page 34: what you’re looking at

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

( ' is 3 (- MAR : f 188 yeoman. He was saying to himself, “I wonder how I could put a spirit like that into Billy!” Finally he returned and seated himself again at his desk. ‘ Bullitt,” he said, “ you ought to try for the Naval Academy, and secure a commission. It would be a shorter and better way to realize your ambitions. Why not do that?” | Cyrus felt his pulses thrill. For a brief moment it was as if he already wore the uniform of the commissioned officer. Such was the alchemy of the brain and heart he faced. Then the chasm between them yawned. He wilted, saying half-heartedly, “I am too poor and I have no political influence; I could not get the appointment.” “Don’t be so sure about that,” the cap- © tain corrected. “Influence is not neces- sary if you have the will and the merit. In fact, there has just come down a ruling from the Secretary of the Navy which may fit your case exactly. He has announced that he will appoint two enlisted men to the ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. academy next fall, and that they will be chosen by competitive examination.” Cyrus opened his mouth to speak, but no words came forth. “Get ready for that examination,” the captain concluded, “and if I can help you in any way call on me.” He turned to his desk as if that terminated the interview. Cyrus mumbled, “Thank you, sir,” twiddled his cap in his hands, rose awk- wardly, started toward the door, and then came back, abjectly, as he asked, hesi- tantly, “ But, sir, do I have to stay in the brig?” ‘““'Well!”’ Captain Vosmer exclaimed, ‘I had forgotten that!’ He called, “Orderly!” Marine Reverdy opened the door, stepped inside and saluted. “Notify the officer of the deck,” the cap- tain ordered, “ that sentence on this prisoner is suspend “ Aye, sir!” replied the orderly, saluting as he withdrew. ‘Now, Bullitt,” the captain concluded, “let us see what is in you!” TO BE CONTINUED NEXT WEEK Le} v vu IN MOURNFUL NUMBERS FoR every blossom there’s a bug, For every joy a woe; For every “ pe ” an ugly mug, For every friend a foe. For every gain there is a loss, -For every climb a fall; For every job there is a boss, For every dime a.-call. For every plaudit there’s a jeer, For every mend a break;. For every smile there is a tear, For every tooth an ache. For every tire there is a tack, For every truth a lie; For every fortune there’s a lack, For every swat a fly. Slim prospect, Looks pretty dismal? Yes, that’s true, Tl be bound. I don’t know what on earth we'll do— But turn each line around! Walter G. Doty.