Cameron County press. [volume] (Emporium, Cameron County, Pa.) 1866-1922, 1900-07-12
CHAPTER XVII.

In the fortnight of incessant action
that followed the mad attack of that
starlit Sunday morning, there was no
place for Billy Gray. Sorely wounded,
yet envied by many fellow soldier for
the glowing words in which the brigade
commander praised his conduct and
urged his brevet, the boy had been
carried back to the great reserve hos
pital at Malate. The breezy wards
were filled with sick and wounded, and
certain of the rooms of the old con-
vent once used for study and recita-
ton had been set apart for officers.
There were three cots in the one to
which they bore him, and two were al
ready occupied. Even in his pain and
weakness he could hardly suppress a
cry of dismay; for there, with his arm
bandaged and in splints, his face white
from loss of blood, lay Stanley Arm
strong. Time and again the boys heart
and conscience had rebulied him for
the estrangement that had arisen be-
tween him and this man who had
proved his best friend. Time and again
he had promised himself that he would
strive to win back that friendship; but
well he knew that first he must rein
state himself in Armstrong; respect;
and how could he hope for that so long
as he surrendered to the fascinations
that kept him dangling about the
dainty skirts of Witchie Garrison?
ODDLY enough, the boy had hardly both
cred his head with any thought of what
Frank Garrison might think of his at
tentions or devotions, whatever they
could be called, to this very captivating
and capricious helpmate. When hus-
band is so overwhelmed with other
cares or considerations that he never
sees his wife from morn till night, so
ciety seems to correspondingly lose
sight of him. Down in the depths of
his heart the boy was ashamed of him
self. He never heard Armstrong men
toned that he did not vince. He knew
and she knew that, coming suddenly
upon them as Armstrong had that
tropic night on the Queen, he must have
heard her words, must have realized
that some compact or understanding
existed between them, which neither
Gray nor Mrs. Frank could palliate or
explain. 1t had not needed that epi-
sode to tell her that Armstrong held
her in contempt; and yet, when they
CHANGED to meet, she could smile up
into his eyes as beamingly, as guileless-
ly, as though no shadow of sin had
ever darkened her winsome face. But
not so Gray. He moaned in secret over
the loss of a strong mans confidence
and esteem. He longed to find a way
to win it back. He had even thought to
go to the colonel with his trouble, make
a clean breast of it, tell him the truth
that he had fallen deeply, as it was pos
sible for him to fall, in love with Amy
Lawrence; had hoped his love was re-
turned; had found it was not-that
she had only a frank, friendly, kindly
interest in him; and that, wounded
and stung, he had fretted himself into
a fever at Honolulu, aided by Canker's
aspersions, and then-well-any man
is liable, said Billy to himself, to get
smitten with woman who tenderly
and skillfully nurses him day after
day; and that's just what Witchie Gar
rison did. But somehow the opportun-
ity to tell him never seemed to come;
and now, now that Armstrong and him
self were thus thrown together with
the prospect of being in the same room
day and night for the best of the month,
third officer, stranger, lay there, too,
and in his presence or hearing any con-
fidences would be impossible, even if
Armstrong encouraged them, which
he probably would not. In this embar-