The Anderson intelligencer. [volume] (Anderson Court House, S.C.) 1860-1914, 1898-01-26

maps the ola general might come TO
his assistance with somo of the men
when he had arranged for Dora's
eafety.
The enemy had drawn off. He.
had time to think. but his eyes were
kept steadily on the narrow open
ang at the end Of the deiile. What
were they up to now2 What would
their next move be?
What was that2 A cloud of dust
coming through the defilel There
was no wind. What could it be2
Suddenly it dawned upon him that
some of tho Afridis wero crawling
upon him Oh their stomachs, wrig-
Cling along like eels. thrashing the
dust about them in front to obscure
his aim.
But he caught sight of body
heye and there, and whenever he
did his rifle spoke, and it YVES gener
ally followed by yell. Still, that
dust cloud gradually approached.
He had to expose himself more now
to take aim at his attackers.
Pingl That was near his own
head, but he must raise il to get
sight of them. The rest were now
crawling along after their leader,
for they were not going to be held
at bay by one man.
Pingl This time he felt a slarr
sting on his neck, and something
like warm water trickled down be-
tween his shirt and his neck.
But he continued to pump in the
bullets. There was numbness in
his left shoulder and a fearful pain
when he tried to turn his head. Hs
wanted to brush the blood away
from his eyes. There were scram-
BILE and scuffie. The Afridis were
preparing to jump up and make a
rush. The final aot was now be-
| gun.
He tried to load his rife, but some
how things were getting muddled
and mixed. and he could not lift his
gun.
Suddenly there was a yell, and
he was conscious that the Afridis
wore closing in upon him. The end
was coming. He hoped they would
not mutilate him, and, if they did,
that the old general would not tell
his mother and the girls.
With struggle he was on his
feet. His vision was almost obliter-
ated now, and he knew it was with
his own blood. He threw his empty
revolver full ct them. He had still
four shots left in the other one,
which he changed into his right
hand, for his left hand somehow
could not pull the trigger.
Blindly he plugged in the four
shots. gripping his weapon hard.
He wanted to put up mis- right arm
to ward off something and defend
his head, but he could not move it.
He staggered. Something seemed to
explode inside his brain, and he fell
down over the horse, but there was
the victor's smile on his face. He
had won, for he had saved Dora.
HE would have had the v. G. for
this had he lived, said the old gen.
eral as he stopped down and gazed
into Baby's face, with its boyish
smile, beautiful in spite of all the
| disigurement OF dust and blood
upon It. Ee was d stern man. bnt
ehs tears fell thickly as he scruti-
nized the form Of the young sub
| altern To see il there were a chance
of life.
Far away in England, in cottage
nesting away half buried among
the oaks and elms of quiet little
village in Yorkshire, mother
weeps for her boy, who died like
soldier, as his father before him.
In the same village lives an elder
ly spinster, who fights with the rec
tor and the curate. She hos been
/ called sour old maid, though she
1s not SO old as she looks, but she
has altered very much since the day
Of the picnic in India. People won
der at her devotion to the widow
lady whose son was killed in India.
The vicar knows, for he went
through the whole Of Eaby IS private
papers-Baby was an old pupil of
his-but he keeps his own counsel
and is always patient with Miss
Dora's eccentricities. Answers.
! nsret. =s,.4.-
''Why, woman can't HHnd her