Iron County register. [volume] (Ironton, Iron County, Mo.) 1867-1965, 1893-11-09

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Copyright 1901. bv B. Lippincott Co-.nd Publishes
BY Special ArrangemeHs-l
CHAPTER vL-CoNrINuED.
Fitzhugh looked keenly at the speak
er, missed at last, and, leaning on his
cue, was about to speak earnestly, but
changed his mind and only asked:
"Shoot much now? Much game down
in the countless
Lots! I go down often" Meredith
answered, growing more glib under the
mixture of cognac and champagne.
'Say, Peyton, there's bigger game in
Prince Georges now" He checked
himself suddenly, with shrewd leer al
the others impassive face. "Rare days
we duo use to have in old times, chi
Guess scas rather fond of tear for
| youngster. Remember that sum-
mer at Capon, just before the war,
when 1 fell waltzing with Carolyn
Again he checked himself, more alb
ruptly and with more of effort, aiming
intently at his ball.
'They were jolly days." Fitzhugh
said. Here's to their return-after the
war;
He filed both glasses trimming.
Meredith gulped his eagerly, to the last
drop; but the other man, seemingly
eager for his turn at the balls, placed
his glass on a side-stand, scarcely
touched.
"Say. Peyton, old boy" Meredith
cried suddenly, as his opponent finished
q small run which he neglected to
count, 81 used to think that summer
you were pretty soft on her"
Indeed? On whom?"
Carolyn Clay. She ras q beauty,
though. George! how she could ride
and shoot! A perfect thoroughbred!
But you did seem pretty hard hitr'
Ibid I? Pom my word, I'forget," Fitz-
hugh retorted, with controlled tonyue;
but his eyes glowed, as they measured
the other man, now stretching unstead-
fly across the table. "What ever became
of Miss Clay?"
''She's all right, old boy! She
Suddenly Meredith checked himself,
steadying his body against the cushion,
as he gazed at his querist with stare
meant to be penetrating, but too large
ly tinctured with alcohol. ''She's some
where over in Virginia, suppose"
well, i hope we may meet-in the
spring." Fitzhugh answered, quietly;
and he reflled the others glass. adding
a drop to his own full one. ''Hcre's to
good old times, Carrollr'
ITO old times it is! Damn it, Peyton,
meeting you does bring 'em back!
Many jolly tear, eh?" and he gulped
down the fiery cognac as it had been
water. "Ah, that's the stuff! You're
right! Woman's wine, champagne
What were we saying?- Carolyn Clay?
Yes; shes a grand girl.-she's soldier!-
Peyton, oil boy, if 1 wasn't pledged-if
dared-I might tell you something to
'stonish- Whose shot is it? Mine?"
He broke off abruptly, turning to the
table and playing wildly, but counting.
Again Fitzhugh's eyes sought the clock
anxiorsly. 1t marked the quarter to
twelve.
''Game!" he cried, suddenly. ''I'll bet
you a terrapin supper you can't beat
me, the next game we play. This room
is too hot. Come, let's get into the air.
One night-cap, and I'll walk home with
you"
Again he filled the glasses with steady
hand. Again Meredith drained his,
lurching heavily towards the hat-racl.
Then the two locked arms, passing into
the black December night. The cold
wind, contrasting to the close room,
drove the alcohol fumes faster to Mere
dith's brain, loosening his legs and his
tongue in equal degree.
"Yes, sir! Carolyn Clay's soldier, ev'ry
inch! Braves girl yo' ever heard o..
An litt'l Will McKee,"-he gabbled on,
with chuckle-''tha' ittr shrimp
Peyton, you'd new s'pect society beau
like him-damn sush pavement!-you'd
new s'pect shrimp like him-KnowI can
trust you, OIL boy! But he's riskin' OF
capitol"
When Peyton Fitzhugh had found
Carroll Meredith's night-key, left him
in his room, and turned once more into
the night, he muttered to himself:
"a gentleman in soul, with a big
heart! God forgive the poor fellow
and mel! But had to do it!''
Pulling his soft hat down over his
face, and throwing the collar of his
long ulster high about it, the spy strobe
rapidly through the deserted streets,
turned into an alley-way, and halted
before low arch, where q sentry
walked lazily. The man came to q