Argosy All-Story Weekly, February 12, 1927 — page 20: what you’re looking at

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

14 ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. eyes to the khaki, and picture, in spite of the misfitting words, these lean, weather- tanned men, as Cromwell’s Ironsides chant- ing their battle hymn on the field of Worcester. The long lines of wall-tents came in sight, and as they passed the opening of their company street, Company C turned out of line, and formed up in the open space to be dismissed. “ Going to town?” Jennings inquired of Stewart, as they made for their tent. “Yes. Probably look in at a movie, and try one of the chicken dinners at ‘ The Greasy Spoon,’ or the hotel.” “Lay off the hotel, unless you want to get arm-paralysis saluting some of the brand-new ‘ shave tails.’ They’re as thick around there as fleas—and about as trouble- some. You’re a lucky guy, though. I’m on guard to-night.” Stewart hurried through his preparations, which consisted of a quick shave, and a change of shoes and leggings. ‘Trench-dig- ging had excused Company C from the us- ual Saturday morning inspection with its clean shaves, and shiny turn-out. ‘“¢ You'll knock her dead,” Jennings called after him. ‘ Ask her has she got a friend.” Stewart laughed, and made a running jump for the flivver, already crowded with soldiery for the four bumping miles to town. He had no girl in mind in going to town—or if he did, it was some one alto- gether outside of Jennings’s ken, some one unattainable, that had flashed into Stew- art’s life one spring evening in Central Park, and had vanished again. He clung to the running-board of the swaying Ford, and frowned at the memory of that meeting with Harriet Sanderson. He recalled to mind for the hundredth time the troubled look in the eyes of Martha Lane as he turned away without a denial of the damning indictment. Explanations would have.called for proof, and the proofs were lacking. There was no reason to suppose that she would have cared for explanations. He was a stranger to her, a chance acquaintance, and any little favorable impression he might have made would have been swept away by the aes: ve Baws of his prison 1 record, — a af — te ae ine or. —~ Just because he had thought of her night after night, after “ Taps” had blown and the day’s work was over, that didn’t mean she also had remembered him. There was a possibility of her coming to Spartanburg. She had said something about it. That was really the key to his visits to town. Some time he hoped to meet Martha Lane again. What he would say to this cousin of the man who had wronged him, what impres- sion she must have received of him from the mouth of her cousin, Stewart had no idea. But stronger than his hatred of Edmund Sanderson, stronger than his fear of her contempt, was his desire to see her again. He dropped off the flivver at a corner, paid his share of the fare, and strolled to- ward the main hotel of the town. Inside the crowded lobby he paused in front of the newsstand, selected a magazine, and made for the mezzanine floor. There he could read and, as was his custom Saturday afternoons, watch the busy scene beneath him. It was the largest place in Spartanburg where the local social world of the camp, masculine and feminine, passed in review. As he seated himself near the rail, an of- ficer seated farther back, stopped chatting with a girl to glare at the soldier’s broad back. | “Sit somewhere else, corporal,” he ~ snapped harshly. “I can’t see through you, you know!” Stewart swung about in the wicker chaste and found himself face to face with Ed- mund Sanderson. CHAPTER VIL. JENNINGS HAS THE WORD. T was the same Sanderson. Five years had made little change in his round, fat face, efféminately pink and white, ex- cept to push the curly hair farther back, and add baggy folds of dissipation under- neath the shifty, whitish-blue eyes. They widened now with fear, and a kind of cor> nered desperation as Stewart stood up, men- ar calm, : 2 - — a oa me RET 35 . anne eas pe) eae - a re S Sinny ts ah FSDES SS a ny —a~ << = ? = oa -& Se ae ee ee a pase ne eae > et , . om 7 ee en Oe SS oo a rs comicbooks.com