Argosy, Vol. 122, No. 1 — page 129: what you’re looking at

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

BREAKFAST, DINNER, AND SUPPER. “Tm from Kingston, New York,” said the infantryman. “ Where you from?” “McGill, Wyoming. Dad’s a_ sheep man,” answered the Candy Kid. This information seemed to tickle the in- fantryman. Between chuckles and gasps, he remarked: “‘ Sheep, eh? Say, this—is—hellishly dif- ferent—ain’t—it?” He spat again. “‘ Give me another cigarette, will—you— buddy?” Jimmie took out his last cigarette. This time it was not taken from him. “Stick it in' my face—buddy,” com- manded the infantryman; ‘‘ my—hands— are—tired.” He puffed at it for a moment or: two. in silence. “ Hell !—I’ll—be—all—”’ He rolled slowly from the log and lay face downward across his rifle. Jimmie turned him over. The cigarette was still hanging from his lower lip. Jim- mie detached it and threw it away. “ Can you beat it?” muttered the Candy Kid. ‘I wonder what he was lookin’ at.” He looked behind the log. It was a little five-by-three photograph of a girl. Jimmie stared at it, then turned it over and read the inscription on the back. “ His sister.” 7 Still considering the photograph, Jimmie wenton down the hill. He found the break in the ground wire, thrust the picture in his pocket, and set to work. In the meantime Fritz opened fire with another battery, on a new range. Jimmie had finished his splicing and winding when the ground swayed under him. He felt a blast of air, and seemed to be falling skyward. Next day, in the hospital, he evinced little surprise, but considerable worriment when he returned to realities. ‘What is it?” asked the nurse. “There was a picture,” said Jimmie vaguely. “Yes; we found it. Here it is.” She propped it against a fold of the blanket over Jimmie’s chest, where he could look at it. 119 ‘“ She lives in Kingston, New York,” said the Candy Kid, clearly and triumphantly— and he fainted again. Five minutes to eight o’clock came at Giles’s. The evening reliefs arose from their meal at the rear tables, donned aprons, belts and check-boxes, and pre- pared to go on the floor. Delphine seated herself at the table next to the cashier’s desk and made ready to collect the check- boxes from the day girls, and help “ Cash ” balance the checks which had been paid at the desk. “Hey, Number One—pipe what’s cop- pin’ Six!” exclaimed Lulu Annis, one of Delphine’s favorites, as she passed by with a plate of dry toast. Delphine “ piped.” “The nerve of her!” she muttered, and left her seat and stalked majestically down the aisle. One minute before, a tall, brown-faced young man had entered the restaurant, after promenading back and forth on the Twenty- Third Street sidewalk before the Giles white-front a number of times, as though he found it difficult to screw up his courage. - When he arrived at his decision, an embar- rassed flush showed through the bronze on his cheeks; but he walked through the door- way without further hesitation, and went directly to Martha Anne’s “ station.” Martha Anne saw him coming, saw by the look in his eyes that he was going to speak to her, and turned angrily toward the kitchen alley. He was just “ another.” She had hoped that her trials of that day were over with. Poor Martha Anne! She felt a light touch on her shoulder, and whirled resentfully. The tall youth stood before her, hat in hand, looking down into her face. Somehow he didn’t look like the others. His cheeks were as flushed as her own. | “You are —Miss Ellison?” he queried hesitantly. “ce Yes. 9? “You had a brother—Fred Ellison—in the th Infantry?” Martha Anne’s blue éyes became sud- denly moist. She nodded. She noticed the tan on the tall stranger’s cheeks, and the square set of his shoulders. cComiclbooks.com