File:Argosy and Railroad Man’s Magazine, Apr 5 1919 (1919) (14755784641).jpg

Identifier: arg_rmm_1919_04_05 (find matches)
Title: Argosy and Railroad Man’s Magazine, Apr 5 1919
Year: 1919 (1910s)
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Subjects: pulp
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it first,and rushed in to tide the old man over.Then Limpy wrote the professor in full. THE MIRACLE. 495 He diffidently drew a telegram from hispocket and smoothed it out carefully.Yuh might be intrested in this. Theprofessor sent one to every Dry Gulchersoon as he got Limpys letter. The telegram had been despatched fromBoston, and read: Dry Gulchers meet San Francisco, twentiethnext month. Pluto unfortunate. Come pre-pared transfer all assets to Pluto trustee. Professor. Challenged by my look of bold inquiry,Mr. Betts explained in some confusion: (The You see, once Macdonald is trustee incharge of all our money again, it 11 giveim something to think about — an hellsoon be his old self again. Anyway, itnever was our money, whatever he mightsay. Rights right! I laughed mockingly. Jack Rogers took the first boat fromFrance, said Mr. Betts irrelevantly, hisembarrassed eyes avoiding mine, an Imjust waitin here to go West with im, if hegets safe through them blooming subma-rines.End.) -
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iretcie^ *bf JoUD.S FOR hours we had ridden across deso-late Champagne, our horses pickingtheir way over the pockmarked terrane,littered with the incredible debris of a raceof degenerates possessing the strength ofmen coupled with the wanton destructive-ness of children. . The heat of afternoon gave way to thecool breath of evening: the sun set in afantastic smear of crimson and gold, andthe more brilliant stars crept forth from adome of lapis lazuli. Presently the moon,at the full, rose in almost artificial splendor.Back home they were speaking of it as the harvest moon. Here the only harvestwas that of death, desolation, and despair. Seen beneath its amber light the picturechanged from a landscape in brilliant oilsto an etching in monstrous blacks andwhites. It was as if we were crossing theghostly contour of some dead planet. Thebattle line, stilled by the armistice, was warn well beyond—the returning tide of scat-tered inhabitants far to the rear. We wereaione in a land at once

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