Pittsburg dispatch. [volume] (Pittsburg [Pa.]) 1880-1923, 1891-11-28

How would you got him there7 It's impos;;
sibls. Besides, look at this" He pointed
to the sky, an even blank of thick gray
cloud. 'That'll be falling in another hour.
You'd be showed up. And then-hang it
sll, man, I must be as mad as you are to
discuss the thing at all. You don't suppose
you're going to get leave of absence to
nurse Johnny Reb."
~ might take it, I" said Roland.
Sand be shot for desertion?"
"That's as may be. The chances are l
shouldn't be missed till you were too tar
away to send back for me. must 60 and
answer to my name, and then see if I can't
drop behind"
Ned held his head in his hands as if it
would else burst with the folly OF his
friends idea
II can't stay here all day talking d
nonsense" he said, angrily. '.I'm off into
camp"
He strobe away, and Roland kept pace
with him. He did not need his friends as
surance Of the folly of the act he meditated.
He quite recognised that, but it was only
in the background of his thoughts, which
were filed with the memory of q woman's
face. How could he leave the man
Rose loved, to die, while any possible effort
of his might suffice to save him?
The first flakes of the coming snowstorm
fell as the detachment started. It marched
in very loose order, for the road was rough,
the snow deep, most of the men more or
less broken with wounds and fatigue, and
it was known that no enemy was within 60
miles. Roland fell, little by little to the
rear, where the clumsy country wagons
numbered along, full of the wounded, under
Ned's charge.
you'll take care of the letter." he vhis-
pered, and thrust it into his friends hand.
"Good-bye; shall fall in with the next de-
tachment if 1 pull through long enough. If
not
He nodded, and at a sudden turn of the
road, here thickly surrounded by maple
and hemlock, darted among the trees, and
listened, with his heart in his ears, to the
jingle and clatter of arms as his comrades
marched on. 1t died away on the snow
laden air, and he retraced his steps to the
shed with an armful of dry leaves and
twigs, with which, by the sacrifice of one Of
his few remaining cartridges. he speedily
made q blazing fire. Vickers lay quiet,
watching him through half-shut lids.
"Say, Rolaad." he said presently, "what
sort of game is this?"
'T'm going to see if can pull you
through, said Roland, with an affectation of
cheerfulness
''You can't" said Vickers, ST heard what
Ned said just now. I'm booked for the
journey through, know it. Don't you be
fool Follow the boys, and leave me
here. I'm beyond any mans help. You
won't? Well, you always were q nutmeg
headed sort of creature. I never knew you to
have more than one idea at time, and that
one wasn't worth much, as general thing
But this is madness, sheer, stark madnessl
Look at the snow! Another hour or two,
and we shall be showed up. It's Just chuck
ing a good life after bad one. I know
you amt doing it for me-. It's for Rose.
Well, if it was any use, wouldn't say no.
But it isn't. shall be dead man in "a
hours at most. Nothing can save me-"
'T'm just going to the wood" said
Roland, taking up his gun, and speaking in
quite casual tone. 'tIf there's any game
about, this weather will drive it under
cover. I'll be back presently, anyhow"
He flung some of the broken timber of
the shed upon the fire, and went out.
He had not taken six PAGES through the
binding flakes, when Vickers' voice rang
out with startling loudness and suddenness,
"Goodby, Roland" and loud report
seemed to shake the crazy old hut to its
foundation.
Roland ran back. Vickers was lying
dead, with the freight playing brightly on
the barrel of revolver clinched in his left
hand.
Ten minutes later he was lying in deep
snow drift, and Roland was tramping
through the snow on the track of his de-
tachment.-Henry Murray in Strand MaSa-
zine