The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1892-02-06

"Sornebody might come along ana
give me hand to get him to the nearest
town" said Roland vaguely. but tena-
ciously.
THE nearest town is thirty miles
away. How would you get him there!
It's impossible. Besides, look at TINS.
He pointed to the sky, an even blank OF
thick. gray cloud. 'That'll be failing
in another hour You'd be showed up.
And then--hang it all, man. nustIoe
as mad as you are to discuss the ehlng
at all You don't suppose that you're
going to get leave Of absence to nurse
Johnny Reb?'
81 might take it," said Roland.
"And be shct for desertion?'
"That's as may be- The chances are
I shouldn't be missed till you were too
far away to send back for me. must
go and answer to my name and tnen
see if | can't drop behind"
Ned held his head in his hands as If it
would else burst with the folly OF his
friends idea.
81 can't stay here all day talking ID
nonsense" he said angrily. sim or
into camp"
He strobe away and Roland kept pace
with him He did not need his friends
assurance of the folly of the act he
meditated. He quite recognized that,
but it was only in the background OF his
thoughts, which were filled with the
memory of 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 snow
storm fell as the detachment started. 1t
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 sixty 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
whispered, and thrust it into his friends
hand. .sGoodby. | shall fall in with
the next detachment if 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 chatter of arms as
bis comrades marched on. 1t died away
upon the snow laden cir, 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 blazing
fire. Vickers lay quiet watching him
through half shut lids.
"Say, Roland" he said presently,
"what sort of game is this?"
'Im going to see if can pull you
through" said Roland, with an affecta-
ton of cheerfulness,
"You can't" said Vicl1ers; 81 heard
what Ned said just now. Pm booked
for the journey through, l 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 al
ways were nutmeg headed sort OF
creature. | never knew you to have more
than one idea at time, and that one
wasn't worth much, as a general thing.
.'But this is madness-sheer, stark
madness! Look at the snow! Another
hour or two and we shall be showed
up. It's just chucking good life after
bad one. know you amt doing it
for me; it's for Rose. Well, if it was
any use l wouldn't say no. But it isn't.
| shall be dead man in twenty-four
hours at most. Nothing can save me-"
"I'm just going to the wood" said
Roland, taking up his gun and speaking
| in quite casual tone. ''If 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 it's foundation.
Roland ran back. Vickers was lying
dead, with freight playing brightly on
the barrel of a revolver clinched in his
left hand.
Ten minutes later he was lying in a
deep snowdrift, and Roland was tramp
ing through the snow on the track Of
his detachment. = Henry Murray in
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