The Caucasian. (Clinton, N.C.) 188?-1913, 1894-06-28

WHERE TWO STATS ia
that she was out Of money and starry
ing, the captain surprised her by hand
ing her fifty dollars, which is much
more than she'd have got from Doyle.
what she wanted. She wants to get at
him. She has money enough"
yes, that womar's q terror. Ferry.
Old Mrs. Murtagh, wife of my quarter
master sergeant has been in the army
twenty years, and says she knew her
weil-knew all her people. She comes
from tough lot, and they had bad
reputation in Texas in the old days.
Doyle's a totally different man since
she turned up, Cram tells me. Hello!
here's Pills the Less" he Suddenly
exclaimed, as they came opposite the
west gate leading to the hospital.
"uow's your patient. Doc?"
well, he's sleeping at last. lie
seems worn out. It's the first time I've
left him; but I'm used up and want a few
hours sleep. There ism anything to
drink in the room, even if he should
wake, and Jim is sleeping or lying there
by him"
"Oh. he'll do all right now, reckon. -
said the officer of the day, cheerfully.
''Go and get your sleep. The old wom-
an can't get at him unless she brides
my sentries or rides the air on q
broomstick, like some other old witch
es I've read OF. Ferry sleeps in the
| adjoining room. anyhow, so he can look
out for her. Good night. Doc" And
SO. on they went, glancipg upward at
the dim light just showing through
| the window-blinds in the gable end OF
Doyle's quarters. and hating at the
foot of the stairs.
Come over and have a pipe with me,
| Ferry, said the captain. Its too beau
tiful night to turn in. want to tal <
to you about WariQg, anyhow. This
thing weighs on my mind"
Done with you, for an hour any.
| howl said Ferry. just wait min
ute till run up and get my baeey."
Presently down came the young fell
low again, meeYschaum in hand. the
moonlight glinting on his slender fig
ure, SO trim and jaunty IN the battery
dress. Kipsey looked him over With a
smile of soldierly approval and a wilma
steal comment on the contrast between
the appearance of this young artillery
sprig and that of his OWL stout per-
sonality, clad as he was in bullying
blue flannel sack coat, only distinguish
able in cut and style from civilian
garb by its having brass buttons and a
| pair of furnished old shoulder straps.
Ferry was a swell. His shell jacket
fitted like wax. The Russian shoulder
knots of twisted gold were of the hand
soonest make. The riding breaches,
top boots and spurs were such that
even Waring could not criticise. His
saber cleaned in the moonbeazns, and
Kinsey's old leather-covered sword
looked dingy by contrast His belt
fitted trim and taut. and was polished
as his boot-tops; Kinsey's sank down
over the left hip. and was worn brown
The sasl Ferry sported as battery Off
Ger of the day was draped, West Point
fashion. over the shoulder and around
the waist. and accurately knotted and
looped: kinsey's old war-worn criQsOn
net was slung higgledy piggIedy over
his broad chest.
What swells you fellows are,
Ferry he said. iaughingly, as the
Uoungster came dancing down. Even
old Doyle gets out here ia his scarlet
plume occasionally and puts us dough
boys to shame. What's the use in
trying to make such a rig as ours
look soldierly? If it were not for the
brass buttons our coats would make