The Jersey City news. (Jersey City [N.J.]) 1889-1906, 1899-11-25
THE SCHUBERT GLEB CLUB

strike at him and break the spell and
give him the smallest show to fight for
his life! But there was darkness, and
the wind moaned like a wounded
and the forest seemed alive with unean-
ny noises. The boy threw his musket
away from him and sank down aud wept
like a child. He knew that he wept, and
he cursed himself. He realized that his
nerve vas gone, and he called himself a
cur and a coward. But he could not
choke back his sobs or bring the strength
back to his limbs. He fought God
knows how hard he fought-but there
came a new fright over the knowledge
that he could not conquer. When an owl
in a thorn tree down in the field sent
forth his dismal boot, the picket groyeled
with his face in the dead leaves and
prayed God to have mercy on him.
The clouds were racing oyerhzad as the
boy sobbed and prayed and cursed. By
and by they broke up to let the moon
cast her light at intervals. From a clus-
ter of bushes on the far side Of the old
field q man began creeping and hating.
While the moon was hidden he crept.
When she sent down her light, he crouch
ed and waited. In a quarter OF an hour
he had crossed the field With infinite
%precaution he climbed the fence, and he
made no more noise than a field mouse
as he crept under the trees and around
the bushes. The picket should be here
about. To that creeping, skuiking man,
whose home had been in the path Of war,
there. came no thought Of fairness. War
meant kill. To kill an enemy in any sort
of manner was not murder. He was
there to kill in revenge for the home
which was in ashes. lie was crafty and
cunning. He advanced inch by inch and
took no risks. Under that spreading tree
must be the lone picket, and the bush
whacker was finally within ten feet Of it.
The moon had long been under a cloud,
but as the man turned a bush and was
about to rise to his feet to peer about him
the cloud drifted away, and down through
the tree tops, focused on that Il spot,
came a burst Of moonlight. The skulker
dared not move. He cursed and waited
and made ready to dash forward il ehal
lenged. Thus for W long minutes, and
then the boy, stretched at full length on
the ground, raised his head. His face was
white and pinehed and old. His own
mother would have passed him by as q
stranger. He looked directly out upon
Tie Dutch Ol lIOtHllkEl, liz AAo SJGo
grew large, and a new terror crcpt into
his soul as he saw his midnight visitor.
He did not call out or spring up to run
away. nor did his hands reach out for
the musket among tie leaves. For so
seconds he gazed at the figure ia the
moonlight, and then his head sank down
until his face was buried in he soft,
black soil. A shudder passed over him,
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forward again suspieiously and ready for
sudden attack, and by and by he made
out the figure on the ground. Asleep?
No. A picket sometimes stood IN his
feet and mapped, but never a one stretch
ed himself out on the ground to sleep.
"He couldn't have got a bullet" unused
the bu~shwhaeker, because there has
been no shooting. He looked me square
in the face, but what is he lying there
for?"
The prowler drew back, fearing a trick.
Presently he reached out for q stick and
hurled it at the recumbent figure. There
was no movement. Then he called out:
"You there-do you s~urrender!
There was no answer. The prowler
called again and again and then crept
forward. Holding his gun ready to fire,
he advanced with cautious steps until he
stood over the soldier. Curiosity had got
the better of his desire to kill. With the
muzzle Of his gun he poked the bluecoat
in the body to arouse him if he slept.
There was no movement in reply. The
man who had come with murder IN his
heart knelt over the body and turned it
on its back. Then he placed his hand on
the heart and found it stilled forever
Tho bodv pnS worm. bsf it was the body