Freeland tribune. (Freeland, Pa.) 1888-1921, 1899-02-02

slS-shootef. L was too soft hearted to
bruise you with my hands"
Grim looked at his man keenly. He
then looked over his six-shooter care
fully. He had been o clever shot at
West Point.
"Who gives the signal?" he added,
clearing his throat.
Count three in the position of
raise pistol" said Lander politely,
latter which you are at liberty to fire
as soon as you please"
Crim's tall gelding browsed uneasily
and whinnied. He wanted to get back
to the hay on the picket line, but he
was trained cavalry horse and did
not think of trotting off alone. I
watched, not knowing what else to do.
Both men took position, and came
to the regulation 'raise pistol"
"Ready?" asked the lieutenant,
clearing his throat again.
"All ready" answered the silent
man cheerfully. The moonbeams
whitened his forehead.
"One;" said the lieutenant. Both
men were motionless.
"Two!" he screamed. His arm
dropped. There was a noise and an
empty shell in his six-shooter. The
lieutenant had forgotten to say
"Three."
Lander was dying in the moonlight,
and there was no empty shell in his
six-shooterl Mat Grim, his super.
lor officer, ran to his horse like thing
affrighted, and galloped away.
II
der whispered, "that Charlie Howard
was afraid to meet her tonight. Tell
her that his memory is far worthier
shrine for her worship than-a COM
mon cavalryman. Tell her that was
a deserter, because old man, I think
lot of the little witch. You needn't
tell her that Grim is coward-just
say he is good shot"
And when there were no more words
I hurried away to the village to keep
Lander's engagement She was there
"a little thing-pretty and trembling.
There was n lace handkerchief in her
hand and soft perfume about her.
l told her what Lander had said.
She did not cry, but clutched my arm
with fierce strength.
'"Take me to him." she demanded.
led the way back over the rolling
road, and when we neared the spot
where had left my silent friend in
the moonlight, 1 heard long, low,
mournful howl, the answer mingled
with the echo.
'Let us hurry-faster!" said.
There was no change. Lieutenant
Mat Grim had dnotreturned. The WON.
all picked up the pistol which had
fallen by the silent mans side, and
threw open the cylinder with the ease
of a veteran. Six loaded cartridges
fell into her hand.
"You saw it all?" she questioned
slowly. "And he was your friend?"
1 bowed.
"Then you will kill the coward fol-
your friends saker' She spoke the
words altogether too loudly.
"He is my superior officer, madame
I whispered.
"Leave NO now," she commanded.
"But, madame" L objected, 81
must walk with you back to the will.
age"
NO, no! Leave me. L have this"
She was replacing the cartridges into
the cylinder.
As | stood watching her, bugler in
the camp a mile away played the last
call soldier hears at night-the
mournful, melancholy taps. And
looked down upon my friend, the ST.
lent man-they would sound taps over
him .morrow-and forgot that l
was only aprivate in the regular army.
Leave me now," she repeated.
And when I had gone few PAGES l
turned. She was bending low.
The moon was high above old Badly
now, and his whiteness was upon the
upturned face of the silent man.
Lieutenant Mat Grim called for his
horse the next morning, when guard
told him that the bodies of Private
Lander and white woman had been
found out in the chaparral. Detroit
Free Press.