Argosy All-Story Weekly, February 12, 1927 — page 25: what you’re looking at

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

= > THUNDERING DAWNS. “ A whifflesnitcher,’. Harrison informed him, glancing through his rifle barrel for rust specks, “is a cross between a guinea hen with the feathers removed, and the rear end of a yellow taxicab. It makes its nest in the leather chairs of hotel lobbies, feeds on classified telephone books, and women’s mesh bags, and has been known to attack blind peddlers when aroused. “Tt makes a sound something like a custard pie being stepped on by a man in rubber boots, and not unlike the sound the wind makes in rushing through a full set of red flannels hanging out to dry.” “In my country,” Georgeopoulos confid- ed, climbing into his cot, “‘ we no have.” “ Hey!” a raucous voice sounded from up the company street. “ You guys deef? S’after ‘Taps.’ Douse them lights!” Stewart undressed in the dark, sitting on the edge of the cot, and rolled up in the blankets wondering just how far away Martha Lane had got, and if the “ whiffle- snitcher ” had anything to do with it. CHAPTER IX. SANDERSON BUTTS IN. URING the following month Stewart 'D. did not go into town. He found he had no further interest in the Colum- bia Hotel or its environs, and spent his week-ends about the camp, or dropped into Spartanburg only for a peep at ‘the movies, and a meal at the restaurant jocularly known as the “ Greasy Spoon.” For the rest of the time his days were fairly crowded. Celluloid Jim was on the job all day, and every day. From seven thirty in the morn- ing, when the company tumbled out sleep- ily in answer to “ reveille” until eleven thirty, and from one o’clock in the after- noon until four, the men of Company C were kept busy. Bayonet instruction along the practice trenches, “ wig-wag” signaling, interior guard duty, “ physical torture,” as the grill- ing setting-up exercises were known, extend- ed order drills, and divisional maneuvers were the order of the day, with an occa- _____ sional bloodless battle fought between pla- - > it ey roe oo s ss « toons, in the brush, to teach the men thé science of modern warfare. Saturday morning meant the weekly in- spection. Then everything was in order, cleaned, shining, smart. Kitchens, mess halls, shower baths, tents, even the latrines were spruced up, and the men of the differ- ent battalions lined up at attention to be passed on. The inspection ended the soldier’s week, and after that the ramshackle “ jitneys ” were crowded on their way to town with a joyful, noisy brood of the khaki-clad fledg- lings of Uncle Sam. This period usually found Stewart, with Jennings or brawny Georgeopoulos as spar- ring partner, shuffling about with the pad- ded gloves in a cleared space behind the squad tent. Stewart had, as he knew, one of the most important items in the boxer’s armory, a pile-driving right, and a left that was only slightly behind in hitting power. On the debit side, he was unpracticed in the craft of the ring, and the speed essential to a suc- cessful fighter. Jennings outlined both sides of the ledger one day when he had recovered his wind after a hard workout. He felt a bruised shoulder, gingerly. ‘ Boy,” he gasped, “ you sure kept me movin’ to keep away from that horseshoe in your right hand. You carry a sock if you knew how to use it. If that one had landed on the button instead of the shoulder I’d still be listenin’ to the sparrows. “I got me a couple of dollars an’ a couple of shiners one summer workin’ as a punch- ing bag for Sailor Wells, so I know what I’m talkin’ about. the weight, an’ a mean punch.” Stewart grinned sidewise to avoid moving a puffed lip. “You managed to get a bite at the ban- quet,” he suggested. “Shook me up a little once or twice.” “Not a bit,” Jennings shook his head decidedly, “‘ You can take it, too, an’ that’s more than half the game. stuff, an’ I know I’m not in your class. ‘“ But what you’ve got to learn is a lot, an’ it ‘Il take all our time to get you in shape for the preliminary elimination bouts, _ =e ee ie ke. ~ a : le ee, “Se i a fi. pe ae ee * a hy ? You got the wind, an’. I know my .