The times. (Owosso, Mich.) 1882-1897, 1894-08-17
can save him. Who is he ~

J Gus ringleader Of riot this town has
/ known, sir, p" ia tho answer of one of
| the police officials. mo one knew
where he camc from either-or his real
name.
And then in his dying agony the far
en- demagoguo turns, and the other size
of his twitching face comes uppermost.
Even through tho thin, grizzly beard
there is plainly seen an ugly, Jagged
scar stretching from ear to chin.
This isn't his first row by any man.
ner of means, if it is his last, says a
sergeant of police. Look at that
Who shot him anyhow"
Il did, \" is the cool. prompt answer,
and Sergeant Feeny raises his hand to
his carried carbine and stands atten-
ton as he sees the surgeon kneeling
there. II did, and just in the nick of
time. He had drawn q bead on our
lieutenant, but even if he hadn't I'd
have downed him, and so would any
man in that company yonder." And
Feeny points to where O troop stands
resting after its charge.
"You knew him them"
Knew him instantly, as deserter,
thafe, highwayman and murderer
knew him as Private Bland in Arizona
and would know him anywhere by that
scar"
A policeman bends and wrenches q
loaded revolver from the clutching,
quivering fingers just as Wing comes
striding back and shoulders his way
into the group.
lis he badly hurt, doctor? That
was an AWFUL whack'
''It is tho lieutenant, sir, =" says Feeny
respectfully, but with strange signifi-
canoe in his tone as he draws police
man aside. "Lool1"
And Wing, bending over, gives one
glance into the dying face, then covers
his eyes with hands and turns blindly,
dizzily, away.
That evening host of citizens are
gathered about the bivouac of the bat
talon at the waterworks while the
trumpets are sounding tattoo. A few
squares away the familiar notes come
floating in through the open windows
of a room where Jim Drummond is ly-
ing on a most comfortable sofa, whicA
has been rolled close to the easement
where every Whit Of the cool lake
breeze can fan his face, and where,
glancing languidly around, he contrasts
the luxury of these surroundings with
the rude simplicity Of the life he has
lived and loved so many years. Gray
haired George Harvey, kindly Mrs.
Stone, his sister; blissful, beautiful Fan
ny Wing with burly baby Harvey in
her arms and her proud, soldierly hus-
band by her side, and tall, lovely, ST.
lent girl have all been there to minister
to his needs and bid him thrice well
come and make him feel that here, if
anywhere on earth, he is at home. And
here the battalion surgeon and the fam
lily physician unite in declaring he must
remain until released by their order,
and here for three days and nights he is
nursed and petted and made so much of
that he is unable to recognize himself,
and here sister Puss come. to cry over
and kiss and bless him and in her turn
to be made much Of and forbidden to
leave, and then, after her big brothers
return to duty with the battalion, now
being fed and feted by all the North
Side, he must needs come over every
evening to see her, and, now that pre-
sentable uniforms have arrived and the
rough boards have been shaved and the
men of the old regiment look less like
Coughs, but no more like American
soldiers as our soldiers look in the field
of their sternest service, her sisterly
pride in her big brother is beautiful to
see-so is her self abnegation, for,
somehow or other, though he comes to
see her, he stays to look at Ruth Har-
vey, shy, silent and beautiful, and soon,
as though by common consent, that
corner of the big parlor is given up to
those two, the tall, stalwart trooper and
the slender, willowy girl. And one
evening he comes earlier than usual in
manifest discomposure, and soon it
transpires that i'm Nortant orders have
reached him. Fanny turns pale. "Are
you-all-ordered back?" she cries
and is for an instant radiant at his as
surance that the order involves only
himself. He is called to department
headquarters to report in person to the
general commanding, who is about to