Argosy All-Story Weekly, Vol. 189, No. 4 — page 68: what you’re looking at

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

5388 “T’d love to,” Harmon considered, “ but I’ve got Tuesday with me—” “Bring him along,’ Tremanner urged cordially. “Excellent chap, Tuesday. Amusing fellow and quite thoroughly ex- perienced in soldiering.” “Tl ask him. I think he’s in the can- teen now. He usually is.” “ Better hurry if we’re to get off this af- ternoon,’ Tremanner urged. “If he’s on fatigue or anything just give him the ad- dress—here, Ill write it down—and have him follow us. Id be delighted to have him and so will the ladies, too, I know. Amusing chap—” “Ladies? I can’t picture Bob as a squire of dames—nor me in these duds.” “ Oh, I get into mufti when I can,” Tre- manner laughed, “ and I fancy Ill fix you up. And the ladies aren’t frightening. Just a dear old aunt of mine and a Belgian—a refugee aunt adopted to be in the fashion.” Harmon hurried across the parade- ground to the canteen. The low-ceilinged, smoke-filled room, with its ancient oak tables and benches, was beginning to fill up as the men dropped in from morning inspection. They were re- cruits mostly, with an occasional old sol- dier, but none above the rank of private, the tradition being that the British soldier shall enjoy his ale in sacred privacy. Tuesday was seated over in a corner, where a black-browed, heavy-jawed veteran of Mons and Ypres supervised a “ Bumble and Buck” board, otherwise known as Crown and Anchor, the oldest of soldiers’ gambling devices. Painted on the canvas square were a spade, diamond, club and heart, and an anchor and crown. The owner of the board rattled his dice in a battered wooden dice- cup and invited those in search of fortune. “Step up, gentleman! Try your luck with the old man! Safe as the Bank of England! Undefeated because they never fought—badly bent but never broke! The old bumble and buck. Step up and put _ your money on the name of the game! Try the old sergeant-major! Where we lay we pay!” Tuesday reached inte his pocket and pro- duced a shilling. ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. ‘Want to get away for the week-end?” Harmon asked hurriedly. He had a small opinion of Tuesday’s ability as a gambler. ‘Where to?” Tuesday asked, flipping the shilling on the square that showed the dia- mond. ‘“Tremanner has asked us to visit him,” Harmon said. ‘‘ Chance to get some home comforts and home cooking. Just his aunt and a Belgian lady there.” “ Hell!” Tuesday grunted. hand with the women. Especially Belgian refugees. I seen lots of ’em around—all beef an’ no English talk.” He watched the board, his eyes shining. “Of course,” he apologized, “I ain’t slammin’ Tremanner’s folks. He’s a good scout. Maybe I'll foller you out there. I’m breaking this game now an’ I better stick.” The veteran glowered around the board now plentifully sprinkled with silver six- pences and shillings. ‘Are we all done, gentlemen? What’s the matter with more on the diamond? Does any one say a little bit of silver on the old curse? How about the curse now?” Tuesday emptied his pocket onto the diamond square. “ Righto!” the gambler’s patter rattled on with the rattle of the dice. ‘“ He backs the old curse. Now the heart! Are you all done? Up they come!” ‘The dice tumbled to the table showing a crown, a spade and a diamond. Harmon was agreeably surprised. ‘There they are, gents!” barked the vet- eran. “ The sergeant-major, the shovel, and the lucky old curse! Any more for any more? Let’s drag the anchor a bit! Who'll put his money on the meat-hook? Cover the lucky shamrock, lads. I touch the money, but, I don’t touch the dice! Now, then! Copper to copper and gold to gold! Up she comes again!” Tuesday thrust his winnings again in a handful on the crown. Harmon’s arm was too late to stop him. “Say, go easy,” he cautioned. ‘Nothing doin’,” Tuesday snorted. got this game cinched: z “Tf ain’t no vt The dice rattled out again and Tuesday reached again for his winnings. oe fe) (E(6) mic con