Styuart Sterling - Black Mask (Vol. 23, No. 4 — August 1940)

Director of Physical Education that was what the C.C.C. authorities had hired Bryant to be for the summer session of that cow-country camp. But One-Man Crime Prevention Bureau would have been a more accurate title. That was what he had to turn himself into when someone began potting at him with a high-powered rifle and slaughtering wholesale the boys under his charge.

Just as I swam out even with the tip of the point something spatted the water by my head, then I heard a noise like the cracking of a whip. The actual sound of the rifle hadnt reached me for a second but by the time it did I was heading for shore as fast as I could swim.

I landed on the little beach where Id left my clothes and Fred Ardella stepped out of the underbrush and said: Hey! Mr. Bryant! I was watching you swim.

I said: Its good exercise, Fred, and a lot fun. Well get up a class as soon as the water warms up more its still like ice.

He watched me while I got into my clothes and said: Hey! The looie says you used to play football.

Three years for State, I said. And then three years pro. Well have a football team, too.

Whyd you quit? Theres dough in it, aint there?

I said, Sure. I got a bad leg two years ago, though, and it goes back on when I twist suddenly.

Huh! That why you took this job?

I said it was. He asked me if it paid much money and I said nobody ever got rich out of being a director of physical education at a C.C.C. camp, but that it should turn out to be a lot of fun. Freddy sniffed and said his idea of fun wasnt being stuck up in the middle of the woods and fifty miles from a picture show.

I figured he meant poolroom instead of picture show but let it pass. I was lacing my boots when he said: Wasnt that guy shooting at you?

What guy? I asked.

He grinned at me and said: Now look! I come from Chicago. I never seen nobody get shot but I heard guns before. And I seen that slug hit right by your puss. Whos gunning for you, Mr. Bryant?

I said that I hadnt the least idea and that we should be getting back to camp, that I had a lot of things to do before they sounded the supper call. I didnt tell Fred Ardella, but one of the things I wanted to do was find why somebody should start shooting a high-powered rifle at me my second day in camp.

It just didnt seem the way to start out a happy summer that Id figured would be a sort of vacation.

Captain Rawlins was in his office. He tipped his head so he could look at me over the top of the rimless glasses he wore, and I said: Somebody shot at me, Captain Rawlins. I went swimming and somebody potted at me while I was in the water.

He took off the glasses and started polishing them. You sure of that, Mr. Bryant?

I said I was certain that there could be no mistake. He said: Possibly one of the boys has smuggled a twenty-two rifle into camp. Well have to investigate.

With that, he looked at me to see how I was taking it.

It was no twenty-two, I said. It was a big gun. Ive shot enough of them to know that.

Almost hit you?

Pretty close.

He had almost white hair but his close-cropped mustache was gray. He started to gnaw at it and said, This is awkward! as though he was thinking aloud.

I stood there, waiting, and he went on with, The camp has been threatened, Mr. Bryant. Frankly, thats why I approved your application, rather than asking for someone with more experience. I understand you originally came from this country.

I said: My dads old place is about twenty miles west of here. Dad sold it, years ago, but I grew up there.

Then youd know just about everybody in the country?

All the old-timers.

He put the glasses back on and said: I was hoping there was nothing to the threat. Yet, I felt I shouldnt take an unnecessary risk if it could be avoided. I was told this was not a very healthy place for a camp. In a very nice way, you understand. Of course we both know I have nothing to do or say about where the camp is located. I am sent here on orders only. But the people around here apparently do not realize that.

Its an isolated spot, Captain Rawlins. If its like it used to be, a lot of these old-timers dont even leave their ranches except for supplies. Not over twice a year sometimes. Theyre behind the times.

Ah yes, he said, chewing at his mustache. I understand that, but I dont understand the people. I cant take a risk with these boys, you know, Mr. Bryant.

Now we had two hundred and forty boys in camp, mostly from Chicago, or from Gary, right near there. A good part of them were lads with foreign-born parents more than half, probably. Some of them were homesick and a lot more of them were half sore about being taken clear across the continent and put under the kind of supervision they were getting. There was enough opportunity for trouble right in the camp without more being added to it from outside sources.

I said all this, and Rawlins sighed and said: Im a regular army man, Mr. Bryant. I think these camps are a good thing in fact, I think they are a fine thing but I find dealing with the boys isnt like dealing with an enlisted group. Discipline and order are harder to maintain. I want no other trouble.

When I asked him whod made the threats he said: The man who made the threat is named Withers. He and some friends of his rode up for what they were pleased to term a friendly visit. Naturally I took them around and tried to explain the work we are doing. I explained the boys were building roads, clearing fire-trails, making drainage ditches, similar things. I explained to them our plan of making this a more or less permanent station and how we planned to make this a model camp. Why we were attempting a modified landscaping in the territory surrounding the actual camp. They listened to me very intently and then told me this was no place for the camp to be.

I demanded to know what they meant by that statement and they said, vaguely, that the people around here didnt approve of such foolishness. That the ranchers who specialized in raising cattle and sheep looked upon this section of country as summer range and would resent our boys being here. I imagine they are afraid of the boys scaring the stock, or some such foolishness as that. They mentioned the ever present danger of forest fire, claiming our boys would add to this. I told them that invariably someone was in charge of the boys when they were working outside of the camp proper, and that the boys would act as fire-fighters in case of need that this was part of their duty. That, as a matter of fact, the danger of fire causing serious damage was lessened by their presence.

I dont know, or remember, anyone named Withers, I said. Did he say where he lived?

Well, no. I didnt ask I took it for granted he lived fairly near. I didnt take the man seriously then. But three days later, when a shot was fired at me, I decided the man was actually liable to be a menace.

They shot at you, too?

Yes. And at Lieutenant Ward. Neither bullet came close to either of us we took them as a warning. Thats why I approved of your application.

Did you tell the state police?

He took off the glasses again and looked at me severely. He said: Mr. Bryant! I look on this as an army post. Technically, I suppose we are under the jurisdiction of the state police, but I hope I will not live to see the day when I am forced to call in police to protect men I am commanding. I rather think, that with your knowledge of the country and the people, we can work this out between us.