The Press., 1898-05-26
"Were you in the warp

For answer MT. Smith pushed back his gray hair from his forehead and showed a long. ugly scar that ran up into the scalp.
 The boy gave low whistle. "Cracky! That must have hurtl You were on the southern side?''
 "I don't know" said the man. And he smiled, though his eyes were grave.
 Don't know?' said the boy; "don't know which side you were on? Oh, come now, you're fooling!'
 ''No," said the man, "I don't know, and I've been 80 years trying to find out. I've been to the best doctors in Europe and this country, but they cannot help me. Do you think you can?'
 The boy hitched his chair nearer, forget ting the parade, and laid his hand-it was long, shapely little hand-on the mans knee, while he gazed at him with his clear blue eyes, full of amazement.
 ''I was wounded at the battle of Atlanta in the chest and on the head. MT. Gwin nett, who was on the southern side, found me unconscious and nearly dead on the field, where the cavalry had been charging back and forth. It is supposed horse stepped on me. At any rate, when I came to in the negro cabin where MT. Gwinnett had left me could remember nothing. had no past In few weeks, as soon as was able, was moved to MT. Gwinnett' S mothers home in Atlanta. I was a long time getting we'll, but I never wore out their goodness. My memory never came back, and had to begin all over again learn my A B C's even.'' l "But," said the boy, "there was your | uniform?'
 "Some one had stripped ne of that, | thinking me dead. We'll, I took the name of James Smith and started life over | again. I don't know what have lost. | know I gained the best friend God ever gave man"
 There was something in his face as he | looked at his friend, who was watching the soldiers, that made the boy swallow | quickly.
 "I say," said the boy, and there was a little quiver around his sensitive mouth, "that was rough on you." And he slipped | his hand into the mans and gave it a hard squeeze.
 The boys face was very grave as be said, "Goodby," and he ran back to throw himself on MT. Smith and whisper, It'll come back some day, see if it don't"
 Good little chap" said MT. Smith as he stood listening to the sound of his feet as he ran noisily down the stairs. | "Yes, he's regular boy; no cheruh business about him. But, Jim, you look tired"
 My head feels thick" said the other. "It's this confounded procession. wish l we hadn't waited over. I don't know why you insisted" And his friend kicked his l heels petulantly against the ble on which he was sitting.
 l Walt, I wanted to try another expert ment to see if it would suggest anything. I thought perhaps if had been a northern | man and saw the old flags and all that | it might bring something back, but it has not
 "Of course it hasn't, for you re south ern fast enough. See here, Jim, suppose | you got your past back-and it might be | a past you would not choose now-have you ever thought that the chances are you'd lose the interim? That the last 3C years would go-all your manhood-an6 and I along with it?''
 He spoke with an angry vehenence. He I was afraid and jealous of those unknown | years.
 II don't want my past without you Walt" said his friend simply.
 It was evening. MT. Gwinnett had gone | to the theater, leaving his friend to recover from his headache. He sat in the dusk | though his room was full of reflected ligh from the street below. All day long h. had been in a singular state of anticipa 1 tion, behind which there was lurking ap prehension. His head throbbed, he haC had turns of dizziness and flashing of ret l before his eyes. His idea trains were bro ken and incoherent.
 "I'd better pack he thought, glad O. any physical effort, and he went into .Gwinnetts room-the connecting dool stood open-to collect his things. Ht turned on the light and began sorting tn, numerous parcels tbrown on the table Thero was q pasteboard box, with Tiffany. name upon it. He opened it and took ou large silver dog collar. Gwinnett haC not bought it, and it was not his. Why, il must belong to that boy. He held it idly moment, and then his eye caught a spray of nistletoe beaten in the silver 9Th, name, 'Baldur,' is on the other side, " h, thought He turned it around. Yes, ther, it was. God in heaven, how did he know He trembled so he fell into the neares chair. His heart beat against his ribs, tn, cold sweat stood upon his brow as he asked himself the question. Then from under heath came the answer as the dead sel rose from its grave and God said, "Loos him and let him eo."
 Baldur was his dog, and this was Bal dur's collar. He had had it made in Swe den. in Lund. The quaint old peaken roo shop, the silversmith and the some on who was with him. Some one who wa young and beautiful and who loved him His bride, Barbaral A rending groal burs. from him, and his head fell forwar, on the table, but his hand still clutches the collar. One after another the mis curtains rolled away, little by little tn lost years came back. Thanks be to God there were no awful guilt spots upon thi risen self of his in this his day of judgment
 He saw 8 happy. sheltered childhood flowing into the enthusiasm of youth, an the steady purpose of manhood. He say himself responding gladly to his country call, though Barbara and the baby clunl about him. Then the long list of battle burned their way through his memory ending with Atlanta