Waterbury evening Democrat., 1894-01-05

l ing and striving to pull away the near est arm. You need not try, you can- not conceal it now. see it all-all. Miss Harvey" he cries. looking up in- to the face of the trembling girl, who has hastened in at sound of the excite ment in his voice" Miss Harvey, think of it; twas no Apache who shot him, twas & worse savage-his own uncle."
 | Promise me mother shall not know" pleads poor Wing, striving to rise upon his elbow, striving to restrain the lieutenant, who again has started to his feet. Promise me, Miss Fan ny; you know how she loved him, how she plead with you." II promise you this, Wing" says Drummond, through his clinching teeth, sthat there'll be no time for prayer if ever we set eyes on him again. There'H be no mercy"
 You can't let your men kill him in cold blood, lieutenant. could not l shoot him.''
 No; but, by the God of heaven, could!"
 And now as Wing, exhausted, sinks | back to his couch his head is caught on Fanny Harvey's arm and next is pill lowed in her lap.
 "Hush!' she murmurs, bending down over him as a mother might over sleep ing child. Hush! you must not speak again. I know how her heart is bound up i'll you, and I'm to play mother to you now.''
 And as Drummond, tingling all over I. o4, bound for the moment, light step comes to his side, a little hand is laid on the bandaged arm, and Ruth Harveys pretty face, two big tears trickling down her cheeks, is looking up in his.
 You, too, will be i'll, MT. Drum mond. Oh, why can't you go and lie down and restr What will we do if both of you are down at once with fever?''
 She is younger by over two years than her brave sister. Tall though she has grown, Ruth is but child, and now in all her excitement and anxiety, worn out with the long strain, she be- gins to cry. She strives to hide it, strives to control the weakness, and failing in both strives to turn away.
 All to no purpose. An arm in a sling is of little avail at such mo- 1nent. Whirling quickly about, Drum mond brings his other into action. Be- fore the weeping little maid is well aware what is happening her waist is encircled by the strong arm in the dark blue sleeve, and how can she see that she is drawn to his breast, since now her face is buried in both her hands and those hands in the flannel of his hunt ing shirt-just as high as his heart? Small wonder is it that Corporal Cos tigan, hurrying in at the mouth of the cave, stops short at sight of this pie turesque partie carree. Any other time he would have sense enough to face about and tiptoe whence he came, but now there's no room left for sentiment. Tableaux vivants are lovely in their way, even in cave lighted dimly by a hurricane lamp, but sterner scenes are on the curtain. Drummond's s voice is murmuring soothing, yes, caressing words to his sobbing captive. Drum mond's bearded lips, unrebulhed, are actually pressing kiss upon that child ish brow when Costigan, with prelim- mary clearing of his throat that sounds like a landslide and makes the rock walls ring again, startles Ruth from her blissful woe and brings Drummond leaping to the mouth of the cave.
 Lieutenant, there's something com ing out over our trail
 Thank God!' signs Wing, as he raises his eyes to those of his fair nurse. Thank God, for your sakes!"
 Thank God, Ruth!" cries Fanny, extending one hand to her sister while the other is unaccountably detained. "Thank God! it's father and the Stone man party and Dr. Gray"
 And Ruth, throwing herself upon her knees by her sisters side, buries her head upon her shoulder and sobs anew for very joy.
 And then comes sudden start All in an instant there rings, echoing down the canyon, the sharp, spiteful crack of rifles, answered by shrieks of terror from the cave where lie the Moreno women and by other shots out along the range. Three faces blanch with sudden fear, though Wing looks instant ly up to say:
 "They cant harm you, and our men will be here in less than no time.'
 Out in the gorge men are springing to their feet and seizing their ready arms; horses are snorting and stamp ing, mules praying in wild terror. Two of the ambulance mules, breaking loose from their fastenings, come charging down the resounding rock, nearly an- initiating Moreno, who, bound and helpless, praying and cursing by turns, has rolled himself out of his nook and lies squarely in the way of everything and everybody. But above all the clamor, the ring of carbine, the hiss and spat of lead flattening upon the rocks, Drummond's voice is heard clear and commanding, serene and confident.
 Every man to his post now. Re member your orders.
 Gazing out into the canyon with di- lated eyes, Ruth secs him nimbly clam Der up the opposite side toward the point where Walsh is kneeling behind a rock-Walsh with his Irish mug eX- banded in grin of delight, the smoke just drifting from the muZzle of his carbine as he points with his left hand somewhere out along the cliffs. She sees her soldier boy, crouching low, draw himself to Walsh's side, sees him glancing eagerly over the rocks, then signaling to some one on their own side, pointing here and there along the wooded slope beyond her vision; sees him now, with fierce light i'll his eyes, suddenly clutch Walsh's sleeve and nod toward some invisible object to the |