The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, November 15, 1903, Page 5

C. MeClure.) really the ser- t's fault from the inning. He had been the m. protect the aborers who ng telegraph he had sat *k to a rock and was danger from t he had posted no was a ngw recruit who 2 hos warrior, and he Lee how to act in rs had passed Sloux warriors acked sud- 1 a the yel and f g8 to take his body back, and he arrived just in time to help bis comrades out of a bad A citizen ext as 4 a second soldier w Davison There was only lessness and he e Private Hogan r cowardice. He the enemy and left True, they t, and ed at but fhe m at the trial case against him. He k by putting the rope the sentence was n be dismissed from the e er he was escorted to the e afternoon and told the gate the disgraced ward Wolf Creek and thout once looking back. or defense, but he knew icensed to spit upon ouse at the crossing dow w h , for three st, ng meals to d being the only post- les around. Several were “sweet” on Davison was p- over them all. H e out in less thaa nd he erranged e down on the since the Sioux to light in case r day. 1 the postoffice teps and let his and did some girl came out She had heard of ce and she pitied him. se L as he knew of locking up. med out?™ she d out and disgraced for- e of an object of contempt w man. Why don't you order 2 5 g0 on?” here, Hogan, I'm sorry for you,” sald as she laid a band on his arm. ht have lost your head for a cowardice.” for that, missy,” he sald, ed up with tears in his eyes. heave to go, but don’t be humil- Some of the men have been hint- fated irg to me that you might have made a eas she waved her hand In gay farewell thg stronger defense at the trial” train pulled out of the station. €, I could have sald more” he The world seemed suddenly 9at to hi mused es he nodded his head, “but a “And I didn't get her London address! scapcgoat was wanted and I was new to he exclaimed aloud s his stupidity the company and had no chums. “Miss dawned upon him. “Well, I'll be hanged!"™ Mary, I'm & mind to— But let it g0. Two years later the servants of Falre I'm citizen Hogan, the coward, and will acre received notice from thelr young be till I'm 5% miles away and among men mjstress of her intention of opening t who'll never hear of this. If they'd onlY house for a few weeks. The old pla: have sent me to the guardhouse for six had been closed since her early childhood. nd given me another chance!™ Tears rose In her eves as she was driv- et over it othed the gIrl. en up to her own door. How well she . ;‘“I lcmr'y- remembered the quaint supporting pillarg an 1f 1 only ‘em sing a disarmed and dis- t, but I'd go for the 1b if the Lord would y shots i the clatt ment soldier mall rider appe und the of the road fo slow. He o his horse's hos- ang up end pushed barred the door. A Winchester rifie hung on the wall in the public room and almost before the girl and her mother could realize what hed happened Hogan had fir window and tumbled ead y. At that same e mall rider fel “I've balted the red devils for a mo- ment,” sald Hogan to the wom “and now to get the man in before they lift bis scalp. Take the rifle and ver me as I make a dash.” % A sc the cir of bullets were fired at b 1g Indians as he sprang 'd seized the wounded m inside, but he escaped t company and had been shot in the back as he rode. When stretched on the floor inside and whisky forced between s teeth he opened his eyes and lookea about him and said: is you, Hogan, the man they a coward! Damn me, but there's not a man in the fort with your pluck! It was thrown away, though, as 1 haven't got . The Bloux are on the warpath n and there's twenty in the party out yonder. Nothing can save ¥ou here—not even the signal fire. It was 8 o'clock of a June aftermoon when the Indians appeared, and all tha: long afternoon, with the mail rider lying dead in th Hogan and th stood the There were differe: ed with rifie and revolvers. from various points encircling the house there was a hostile fire, which made a steve of the adobe and woun all three of the defenders. It was when darkness was drawing down that the Coward said: “When night sets in they'll have tis for eure. I must light the signal fire. Hold the door for me, missy, and the mother must cover me from the window. If I go , then God take care of you.” out how It was ut the d on ratch just such a move, but Hogan dodged past them a fired the beacon and regained the hou though struck by two bullets as he e tered it. It was Fis end. He looked v h a smile as Mary held his hand, and last w were: “I wanted a chance, and the Lord gave it to me.” The Indians fled as the signal fire blazed up, and half an hour later Sergeant Davi- son and six troopers rode up to find the two wounded women weeping over ths dend. “This is Haggerty, the mall rider,” said the sergeant, first corpse, “but who may this be in citizen's dress and with three or four wound “That,” sald Mary, as she looked up through her tears, “that is Hogan the Coward—a better man than you ever will be.” | WOOING OF SPITFIRE. | By Heith Gordon. 1 o L the week over the fe T the tender age of 11 years used to sta- erself behind the stone fence that divid- ed their grounds from the roed to see the boy pass by. Regularly at 8 o'clock, five days in she was at her post, peeping nce very cautiously lest the should discover her. There was something about this partic- et she ltked. His eyes were ose of Gladys Arabeila, her doll. That in itself was v her stormy gaze Nke a here were other things be- y way that he he sat o P — re was the way pulled his cloth cap rakishly to one side. There was—well, there was a daring, Qasting . £ something about him, ever med him one of the cong For weeks she had paid him the silent homage that trip to the fence each waxing careless , her black head and appeared just above it ny and stared at her with open “He t are you staring at, sleey?” he calied with boyish rough- pess. The head disappeared. He waited & m it, but as she falled to reappear, he dashed off down the road laughir After b it was his delight to catch her watching him. He would turn at the most u moments to see if he expec t when, once in a getting a glimpse head and the flery dark “Hi, there, sissy. See always had the same e gree: ef '.‘ e dropped out of eight. ate school for boys kept by & nd of the family. So her e ught a place for her there when essary for them to sall without daughter. E " the excitement of being placed nool where the boy went each elicious. They had known each year—that is, she had watched he bad known that she was 1t's the girl who's always er the fence,” he remarked to t first glimpse of the new t she a regular Indian, d he gazed curiously at the ning black hair and the black 1 not mention to his chum eves that he liked shiny black hair and eyes He dark stars. sile he looked toward her and h friendly smile. Instead iis gverture with the lady- like graciousness that her training had taught, she made up a face at him. Guess he wouldn’t think now that she liked him —that horrid boy! For some time after this he ignored her. But at last he impulsively proffered her a stick of hoarhound when they met in the corridor one day. With a stamp of the foot she threw it to the ground. “If your mother makes you eat hoarhound, eat it yourself. I'm not going to eat it!” she flashed out with spirit. Then in & tumuilt of happiness she fled, leaving the astonished boy gaz- ing after her with an open mouth. “Spitfire!” was his greeting which next they met. . Thus the ice was broken. Morning after morning now he came to school with some offering for the girl. Often it was a bunch of roses begged from the gar- dener. “The prettiest ones you have,” would command importantly, never guessing that their fresh beauty was in- ¢ quenched in the darkness of the small trunk. Each time that she fted the 14d to put in a fresh bunch the scent of the withered ones float- he ed out into the room. Years afterward the fting scent of roses would bring before her the laughing face of the boy. The old boy and girl affair had died the usual death of such attachments. He had gone to college and she to a finish- ing school. They had sworn ' never to forget and to write twice a week. And for six months they kept thelr vow. Later & certain soclety belle whose “dark’ beauty” was much exploited by the newspapers occasionally found herself wondering, in off moments, what had be- come of the boy. And he! One must not be hard on him. The world is so full of pretty girls, and his eyes were blue and daring, his shoulders broad and he was say and debonair. She had reached the mature age of 25 on & gray day In November, and the girl and her companion paced almlessly up and down the platform of the little Scote tish rallway station, walting for the southbound train. A handsome young. man who had been taking a turn up and down the opposite platform, waiting apparently for a train to the morth, glanced across at the peo- ple, who, like himself, paced back and forth impatiently. As his eyes fell upon the tall, graceful girl with a face like a brilliant flower, he paused in astonish- ment. Then & wave of warmth and ex- citement surged over him and he dashed across the tracks and advanced with boy- ish eagerness toward her. It was a pretty bit of comedy, spark- ling with pleasure, surprise, eagerness. Then, the big, black engine swept down upon them with a wild, triumphant shriek as much as to say, “No more of this non- sense. Come with me to London, young lady,” and in the midst of their excited greetings they were obliged to part. « “Not married?” she laughed as he stood at the door of the compartment. “No, I'm waiting for the lady fair,” he answered gayly. “And you?" and the broag veranda. The sun was just dropping out of sight, but its faint gold- en glow lingered lovingly on the place. In the darkness of her old room that night she thought with wet eyes of the lttle girl of other days. At 8 o'clock the next morning she stole down to the stone fence once more, smil- ing foolishly to herself as she dld eo. There was no need to hide—the boy would not go by. And so she leaned upon the ‘wall, thinking pensively of the pasi A welrd buzzing arbused her and she “Waiting for the gentleman dark, looked up to see a big, red touring car replied archly. spinning down the road toward her. For Then the guard called “All aboard,” and a moment she watched it indifferently. she E J§l0GAN,/@ THE SUNDAY CALL. & men as it drew nearer and the outlines of its occupant became clear her heart Jumped with delight. ““It's he; it really is!” she exclaimed ex- citedly. 3 At the same moment the automobile slackened speed and the man inside lifted his hat with a flourish and sang out joy- usly, “Hello, little girll What star- ing at?” As of yors, she drwpoz'-‘fiu.n- 1y down out of sight. OWARD. BY “But {sn’t it strange that you should happen along this very first morning that I'm home?" she queried when, their non- u:le. over, they stood talking across the W “Well, not 50 odd as it would have been £ I had not known you were coming,” he eadmitted laughingly. Then a queer look came Into his eyes. “Why haven't you married?’ he de- manded abruptly. She opened her lips to reply, but something In his face arrested ber. Bhe flushed furiously. He laid his hand on hers. “Haven't we been & pair of idiots?™ he asked with s happy laugh. i S R B S i F R T WHEN DAVID CAME. By Harrlett. G. Canfield. -— & == s A\ scene of joyful propa- ration, for Mr. and Mrs. Ezra Hammond were soon to celebrate their golden welding. From far and near their children and grandchildren were coming to tie old country home under the great elms. A1l of the neighbors were interested in the coming event, and a number of them were pledged “‘to help out on chairs and china’” Patience Saybin (familiarly known as ‘Patty”) and her brother lived only a mile from Elm Dale, but they had pot been asked to contribute, and Patty felt slighted. “I've offered to lend them everything on the place—e you, John,” she said to her brother, it Mrs. Hammond says they have all the arrangements made, I did want a finger in the ple.” John laughed. “Never mind, little girl,” he sald consolingly, “Mr. Hammond says they may ask us to ‘sleep’ one or two, if the old house won't hold them all.” 7——S5—4 LM DALE was the The day before the celebration Mrs. t we could stow 'em she sald with a smile, “but I was thinking Mary had four children, ’stead of five! I don’t ses how I came to forget little David when I counted noses. I've been wondering, dear, if you'd let him sleep here—elther him or one of the others?” “Ob, yes!” Patty cried delightedly, “I “I brought his to, Mrs. Hammond.” The old lady smiled. picture along,” she sald, “so you could see what a dear little fellow he was.” Patty bent eagerly over the photograph. A pleasant little face smiled at her from the cardboard—the round, dimpled face of a 5-year-old. ‘He’s a perfect cherub,” she cried. “I'm expecting most of my children his folks come I'll o The dear old lady forgot to tell Patty that the picture was taken twenty-three years before. All that day Patty was very busy pre- “little David's” room.” An old high chalr and trundle bed were brought down from the attic and dusted. Lizzle, the good-natured gir! in the kitchen, made some little round cakes and Patty frosted them and put a pink “D’* on the top of two or three. When evening came every- thing was in readiness for the expected guest. The tin walter and tiny knife, fork and plate were on the dining-room table, and the little rocker held out its welcom ing arms in the sitting-room. An ok rocking horse (that had been John's long ago) walted.patiently for its gallant rider, and a little woolly dog stood on three legs with an alr of expectation. The day had been a long one to Patt At 7 o'clock she was rearranging the niture in little David's room when th doorbell rang. She went to the head of the stairs and called to Lizzle. “Hurry, Lizzle!" she cried, brought little David over. Take him into the sitting-room and amuse him. I'll be down in a few minute: he f1 to her work and did not hear clamation of astonishment “they’'ve when opened the door and saw a big, broad- she shouldered man standing there. Probably he had overheard Patty’s Instructions to the girl, for his eyes were rull of laugh- ter, though he said soberly enough, “Good evening. I am David Terrell. Baybin was expecting me, I believe? ‘‘Y-yoyes, sir,”” Lizzle stammered, she wasn't expectin’ quite—" she paused in embarrassment. “Quite as much of me?" laughingly. Lizzie giggled and led the way into the sitting-room. The little chalr held ou welcoming arms {n vain to this vid Terrell’s eyes rested at onc rocking horse and woolly dog and his ex- pression momentarily grew more cheer- he .asked, “Were these—ahem—thess preparation: mede In my honor?” he asked Li came from the upper la amusing him, Lizzie?” hysterically. “Tell her you are,”” the young man whispered. ““Yes'm,” she called in muf- fled tones from behind her apron. “Show him the picture books,” ths voice ‘went on, “and if the little fellow is tired take him up i your lap.” Lizzie stepped into the lower hall and turned her laughing face up to her mis- tress. “Pleass, ma'am, I can't,” she sald, 3 hate to trv.” “I'm ashamed of you!” the indignant reply came. “T'll come right down an take him myself.” Lizzie had fled to the kitchen and there was the quick click of heels on the stairs. Then David Terrell saw a pretty picturs framed In the wide doorway. Miss Patty stood there with surprise and disappoint- ment plainly written on her expressive face. “Where—where is—" bewlldered way. David came forward. “I don't know where he is,” he said, “if I did, I'd get him for you, Miss Saybin.” “You?' she asked. “Yes, I'm little David's successor. Wil you forgive me for growing older and larger, Miss Saybin?" For a moment the sensitive mouth quiv- ered—she had anticipated so much. Then she held out her hand and sald with a smile, “I suppose you can't help it, but you don’t look much like your picture.” “Oh, that's {t! Grandmother showed you that small boy photo, did she?”’ Patty nodded and smiled again. After all, this David had pleasant eyes, quite she began in & Z] like the little fellow's. “I am glad that you came,” she sald ho brother and I are often lo will be delighted to entertain soms one of his own age. I hear him coming npow.” and rose and went to the meet him. “John,” David heard her say, “Mr. Terrell is here. Mr. Terrell?” the answer came, “and o is he, Pat it is little Da- ud, John!" She his and led him tc n the few min people were on tr and It was with a fe that she saw th visitor's n that & gs for my companimer of dismay eyes traveling Patty sald innoce , tin tray and 80 o she said, with a gullty glance “Those belong to my brother™ His uppressed mirth, , “How old i3 your John. John stared at her In amazement face Patty answered, de- , and John exploded with laughter. o good pretending, Patty,” he cried him all of my old posses- the trundle bed, but we'll ow wedding a day hered and bright appiness for all who at the old home. At 10 that ni David ; 11 gave Jo! nd Patty & full account he gathert of the cla as he ed it. In co! , he sald, “T shall »u to keep me another night, there will be room for me “I thought you said you must go to- morrow!" exclaimed. “Yes, that's so; but since then™ (and he glanced quickly at Patty) “I've made other arrangements. My brother and I tners and Jim is willing that l " he sald heartily, but this sudden of plans made him suspicious. David made good use of those four weeks. His grandmother laughingly ac- cused him of spending half of his vaca- tion with the Saybins. The last day came, and David walked over for a farewell visit. He found Patty ded porch. John she explained. David sald cheerfully, “it s you I wish to seel” Her clear eyes wers raised to his inquiringly. “Will you keep your word? he sald , “and take me?” befors I saw you I heard you fe that you were coming down- stairs and you would take me yourself.” There was a mischievous light in his eye now. Patty’s face flushed. “You know I didn't mean—" she began. He mterrupted her anxiously. “But you will take me, dear—on trial—for the sake of little David?"” She smiled Into the honest eyes, so like those bf the child in the plcture. “Yes,™ she sald, “for the sake of little David's successor.” A DOUBLE RESCUE. | By Elliott WalKer. ’LL kiss you for that!” cried the child, trem- ulously. *“T'd marry you if I was Dbig enough.” Her arm clung about the man's muscular neck as he tried to dodge the impulsive caresses. Laughing falntly, he carried his light burden across the street, put her down in safety, and beckoned to a white-faced, horrified woman on the other side of the track. “Curly” &id net quite comprehend how he had done it. Just an instinctive leap, a clutch at the pink frock, and the trol- ley’s fepder had grazed his leg as he jerked fgrward, trying to cast the little girl frof him, with a flash of thought that he, himself, was gone. Volces cursing the motorman, who was not in the least at fault; volices and hands applauding hummed in his ear without meaning, es he straightened up with & long breath of relief, his eyes on her grateful, childish fac “Marry me, eh?” he whispered, mis- chievously, as he disintangled the cling-* ing fingers. “Oh, no, my dear, you wouldn't, not if you were ten years older.” “] would! I'd be 21 then,” holding his none too clean hand with both her tiny ones. “I'm going to wait for you. Every day I'll remember just how you look, A ¥ou tot!” smiled her rescuer, hastily pulling from his breast pocket an en- velope and extracting a card photograph from a rather sofled bunch. ‘“Here! Take this! Look at it once in a while. That'll be thanks enough for me, and maybe you won’t entirely forget a poor fellow Wwho won't forget you In a long while. Bless your little white soul! I didn’t know I had a soft spot left.” ‘Allena Raceway!” quavered the thin lady in black, coming up with a rush after painful indecision in crossing, “how dared you disobey me? Have you thanked the kind gentleman properly? Which is he, Allena? “'He's gone!” answered her charge, with a wall of disappointment, her glance roving through the crowd. “Oh, dear! I aidn’t even find out his name. I've got his picture, though, to remember him by. See, Charlotte.” . The governess gazed and bit her lip. “A pretty hard face,” she murmured. “Tt isn’t!” cried Allena in wrath. “It was just saintly when I kissed him.” “You kissed him! You dreadful child! Come home at once. You! Judge Race- way's daughter! Why, the man might have had consumption—or—or germs. He may have given them to you!” “He gave me his picture, anyway, and you and your old germs can go to pot,” retorted Allena, Iimpolitely. “Say, you needn’t drag me along, Charlotte Spicer. I can walk.” « s e “Curly” stood irresolutely in front of the saloon. The crowd jostled him, but he did not move along. A flashily dressed man seized his arm. “You're shaky this morning, boy,” he accosted cordially. “Let's get inside. I'll break a small bottle with you. That will put you on your feet. . “I'm on my feet now,” returned the other, roughly. “Let me alone!" His companion stared. “Curly!” he coaxed good-naturedly. “Come on now. Don't stand here In the sun. Yes, yes, I know how a fellow feels sometimes, It's the nerves. Settle 'em and you'll be all right.” “You don’t know how I feel, Joe, and you -never will,” smiling queerly. “I've had an experience. Just say to the erowd that I've cut my hair and the sooner they forget “Curly’ the better it will please me. Say I'm Tedd Shipman now, the same who came among you two years ago, when I was kicked out of college. Joe, I'm 21 to-day. Lord knows I want a drink, but I don't take it. I've & little money coming, and I was going to ‘blow’ it In good shape, but something has changed my mind. You've been a good friend and square. Good-by and luck to you." The muscular figure straightensd with & half friendly, half ‘warning flash in the gTay eyes. A strong momentary pressure of fingers, which were quick at dealing poker hands, and Shipman's broad shoulders swung down the street. ‘“‘Beats me!” meditated his sporting friend, and swore softly. “Maybe he s right, * though — 21 — birthday — new leaf hum!" e @ “Show him in,” sald the Judge, s bit testily. “Right here In the library, John. Turn up that lamp a trifle.” He pored over the card. “Can’t be Otis Shipman's “Let's see. Todd's a family name. Why, it was ten years ago that boy went off—goodness knows whers —and glad they were to be rid of him, the wild rascal! Seems to me I heard he had done mighty well, but that didn't cure him, I imagine. Yes, I remember, a curly-headed, gray-eyed scamp; bright as a dollar. Too bad! Too bad!™ When the visitor emerged from the Ii- brary after that hour of rapid conversa- tion he went stralght to the drawing- room, and his host, with & puzzled vis- age, pattered upstairs, Shipman stood under the great chande- ller, a bronzed, well-formed man, the rings of clustering bair low on his broad brow. He trembled at the sound of soft &) steps. “My father sald you wished to speak with me,” came a clear voice, as a girl, tall, bright-eyed and sunny haired came quickly in without embarrassment, look- ing at him keenly. “I do,” replied the stranger. every day for ten years prayed meeting, that I “Thank bhave this b for when I was a little girl. So often I have wondered, dreamed that I might time see you again. And here you are.” “Yes, here I am,” solemnly, with his hands clasped behind him. & talk with your father. He has given me permission to tell you my story—if—if you care to hear it.” “‘Of course, I do.” Allena’s cheeks were glowing. “Let us sit down. Dear me! I t even know your pame.” Oh!" she gazed at him interestedly. “That day,” began the man, his tone reverent, “the trustful embrace of a lttle chfld turned my steps. During all my struggle her face has been ever before me —an inspiration. I have been true to it. It has been my one thought to live and work for this date, this anniversary, that 1 might tell her what she did. You do not seem strange to me, but as I expected to find you. Good-by! May God bless you.” “But you will come again!™ cried the girl, giving him her hands as he rose. “If I do,” the deep voice trembled, “you —~you will understand.” The fair head drooped and nodded al- most imperceptibly. Her fingers tight- ened on his. He bent his lips to them, and stepped softly away. “Mrs. Todd Shipman,” murmured Al- lena, as she heard the front door clese. “Quite an attractive name.”