The progressive farmer. [volume] (Winston, N.C.) 1886-1904, 1893-11-07

the apple orchards below.
1.-TWO years ago 1 left home," muir
INJURED Wallace Keene as he gazed
thoughtfully out where the purple sky
seemed to touch the waving woods.
Two years since young Harvey told
me he never would give Marion to a
common mechanic yet. the wound
rankles sharply still"
Captain"
rs that you, Spicer9 What now9''
Captain Keene turned his face to-
ward the opening of the tenn, where
Private Spicer's head was just visible.
"Why, sir, our fellows have just
brought in that lot O. men that was
hurt in that scrimmage across the river
this morning, and some on 'em is
wounded bad"
81 will be there directly, Spicer."
There was a little crowd of men gath
cred on the river shore in the warm
glow of the spring, but they silently
parted right and left for Capt. Keene's
tall figure to pass through their midst.
Six or even dusty, bleeding men
were sitting and lying around in vari-
GUS pastures, their CHASTITY brows made
still paler by the faint, uncertain glim-
mer of the youngmoon. Keene glanced
quickly around, taking in the whole
scene in that n brief survey.
He stopped short as his eye fell on a
new face, half Swallowed by the green
sweep of dropping alders-a pale, blood
streaked face with a gaping cut on the
forehead.
This is not one of our men," he ex
claimed sharply. How came he here9"
mo, SIR" exclaimed Spicer, stepping
forward. 81 think he belonged to the
Eighth. I'm sure 1 don't know how
he ever got mixed up with our fellows,
but there he was, and I thought we'd
better not wait for their ambulance,
but bring him straight here"
Right" briefly pronounced Keene,
stopping over the insensible figure.
LET them carry him to my tent,
Spicer."
Il beg your pardon, captain-to your
tent?"
Didn't you hear what 1 said?"
sharply Intercepted the superior off
Ger. Bruce, make the others com
Portable in Lieut.. Ordway's quarters.
There will be plenty of room for them
there"
well, I'm beat!" calculated Spicer
five or ten minutes afterward as he
came out of the captains tent scratch
ing his shock of coarse red curls.
Meanwhile the dim light of a lamp
swinging from the center of the little
tent shone full on the singular group
within it's circling folds-the wounded
private lying like a corpse, still and
pale, on the narrow iron bedstead, the
young officer leaning over him and
supporting his head-and the brisk,
gray eyed little surgeon keenly survey
ing both as he unfolded his case Of
phials and powders.
He is not dead, d~Octor?"
mo, but he would have been in an
other half hour. Your prompt rene
dies have saved his life, Captain Keene."
Thank God! oh, thank GodI'
The surgeon looked at Keene in
amazement.
He doesn't belong to your regiment.
Why are you so interested in the
case9"
Because, doctor" said Keene, with
a strange, bright smile, when 1 saw
him lying under the alders, dead, as 1
thought, I rejoiced in my secret heart.
At first-only at first. The next mo,
ment I remembered that I was a man
and a Christian. For years I have
carried the spirit of Cain in my breast
toward that man; now it is washed out
in his blood"
1t was high noon of the next day be-
fore the wounded man started from a
fevered doze into the faint dawn of
consciousness.
"Where am II" he faltered, looking
around him, with an Intellectual
effort to raise his dizzy head from the
Nov, be easy" said private Spicer,
who was cleaning his gun by the bed
side. You're all right, my boy. Where
are your" Why in the captains tent.
to be sure, and that's pretty good quar-
tiers for the rank and file, I should
Tine captains tent? How came I
here?"
That's just what I can't tell you
you'll have to ask himself, 1 guess.
You amt any relation to Capt. Keene.