River Falls journal. [volume] (River Falls, Pierce County, Wis.) 1872-2019, 1900-08-30


some fancy shooting to distract her.
He found a mushrOom-can, and threw
II into the air and filled ii full of holes.
She had seen Burton do the same thing
that morning with a tomato-can. In
fact, from where she sat now on a
lichen-covered rock, she could see the
mutilated can giittering in the sun,
over beyond the arroyo. So she thirst
ed for fresher sensations.
"I'll tell you" she said to Greville. as
he held up the mushroom-can for her
to inspect the eight holes he had made
with five shots, ''let me toss up your
hat, and you make a hole through the
trade mark in the crown"
1t was nice, new straw hat. Gre
vile had sent east for it and it had come
by stage the day before. It had cost
him, express paid, S. =. This, too, at a
time when anything he had left after
settling his mess and suffers and tai
lor's bills, went into stick-pins and
candy and books and music and riding
whips for Miss Mivart. But he took off
the hat and gave it to Der without even
lingering glance at that high-priced
trademark within. And he felt that it
was worth four times S4.75 when she
picked up the tattered remains, at last,
and asked that she might have them to
hang in her room.
Then she looked down at her grimy
hand and considered the first finger,
crooking it open and shut. 81 think II
going to SWELL" she pouted. THAT is
a perfectly awful trigger to pull
Greville did what any man might
have been expected to do. He caught
the hand and kissed it. Miss Mivart
looked absolutely unconscious of it.
She might have been ten miles away
herself. Greville, therefore, thought
that she was angry, and his heart was
filled with contrition. Yet he was old
and wise enough to be first lieuten-
ant. He walked beside her back to the
post in state of humble detection she
could not understand.
The next morning it was Burton's
turn. Greville was over on the range
now, vainly trying to bring his record
up to where Burton's was. This time
Miss Mivart fired at white pasteboard-
box cover, and hit it three times out of
twenty. She was jubilant, and so was
Burton, because she was making such
progress under his tuition
That's an easy carbine to shoot,
isn't it?" she asked, as they wandered
home; lit isn't at all hard to pull the
trigger"
Burton glanced at her, and she met
his eyes innoeently. Its just like any
other trigger" he told her.
Yes, of course. And is that the very
same carbine you use in the COMPETE
tion-the one you shot with yester-
day, and will use this afternoon when
you finish up?"
He told her that it was.
Well" she said, complacently, 81
think I'm doing very nicely, don't you.
l hit the target three times, and my
first finger doesn't hurt a bit-this
morning"
That afternoon the competition
came to ar end. with Burton a good
many points ahead of Greville. And
that night there was the big hop. 1t
had been understood from the first that
the man 'Sho won was to take Miss
Mivart to the hop. So she went over
with Burton, and gave him one-third of
her dances. Greville had another third,
and the rest were open to the post at
large.
Greville did not look happy at all. 1t
was not the target record he minded.
He never thought about that. 1t was
having to go down the board walk to
the hop-room behind Burton, and to
watch Miss Mivart leaning on his arm
and looking up into his face from under
the white mists of her lace hood. He
was notconsoled at all when she looked
up into his own face even more sweetly
at the beginning of the second dance,
and whispered that she was 80 sorry"
Now as the second dance had been
Greville's, the third was Burton's
That was the way it had been arranged.
AS the band began the waltz, Miss
ter of quite group. The commanding
officer was in the group, so was Bur
tons captain, and so was the adjutant.
There were some others as well, and
also some women. Miss Mivart may
have chosen that position, or it may
simply have happened so.
Anyway, just as the waltz started,
Burton, light-hearted and light-footed,
came slipping and sliding over the
candle-waxed floor, and pushed his way
into the midst. Ours" he said, tri-
umphantly.
But Miss Mivart did not heed him at
once. She was telling them all how she
had learned to shoot a carbine as well
as anyone, and they, the men, at any
rate, were hanging on her words.
MIR. Greville taught me-" she said.
land so did Mr.. Burton" (This was the
first either had known of the others
part in it, and they exchanged a look.)
They taught me with their own car
bines, too. The very same ones they
used themselves in the competition.
But | shot best with Mr.. Burton's car
bine. He must have fixed his trigger to
pull more easily; it was almost like.
what do you call it, hair-trigger
She looked about for an answer, and
saw on their faces a stare of stony hor-
ror and surprise. They had moved a
little away from Burton, and the COM
handing officers steely eyes were on
his face. The face had turned white,
even with the sunburn, and Burton's
voice was just trifie unsteady as he
spoke.
This is our dance, think, Miss Mi
vart," he said.
The innocent. round, blue orbs
looked Just a little coldly into his.
NO" she told him, 81 think you are
mistaken 1t is Mr.. Greville's dance"
And she turned and laid her hand on
Greville's arm.-San Francisco Argo-
naut.
His Beginning.
Years ago there was cold night in
the latter part of December at Brat
tleboro, Vt. There had been many
freezing nights there before, but on
this one something happened.
A young man, Larkin q. Mead, at
tracted by the beauty of the great
white stiffness, went out of doors and
slowly, yet with much delight, mod
eled figure which. in his mind. stood
for the recording angel writing down
the events of the year just dead. All
night the statue grew. and the sculp-
tor threw on water at intervals to
freeze IL to hardness. He was alone
and happy.