The weekly examiner., 1901-05-25

away if President Lincoln hadn't par 1 doned him when his mother went to him
 crying. Him want to enlist? That's
 good. You ain't as spry on your feet as you used to be, Abel. You couldn't run
 fast enough now to get away safe. Best stay at home.
 "Abel went to war day. Dropped his gun and ran away. 'Is that true?'' the sergeant asked coldly, looking up and down the mans 1 lank form with sheer.
 That's why I want to join," said Abel, with pathetic appeal. II want a chance to wipe it out. Can see the oficer?'' "No good," the soldier answered, turn | ing sharply away. "The captain wouldn't t speak to you. He never lets up on a de- | serter.''
 Abel, with a white face and down look ing, shamed eyes, slipped away through the jeering crowd and went back to his farm. He sat there silent and sorrow ing until long after dark and then sprang to his feet.
 "I must go!" he cried. q can bear it no longer. It is my only chance. I must go."
 From many transports the American soldiers poured into Cuba. The regulars and volunteers, white and black, paused but little while and then plunged into the interior to do speedy battle. But be- sides there were others to be landed. With shouts and yells, the neighing of horses and the clamOrOus brays of mules, the four footed followers of the army were forced overheard and guided ashore, swimming. With them were their inn mediate masters and attendants, the nee essary but far from ornamental mule teers. They wore no smart uniform, nor did they march on shore to sound of band or bugle. They were to the casual man of notes a disfguring blot on the picture. They were rough and undisciplined and shaggy bearded and rude of tongue. The trained battalions drew out in orderly columns as though leaving the familiar home parade. The mules followed, a tumultuous herd ready to stampede, and in front and behind them and watching their Hanks rode the whackers, every man garbed and equipped as he thought best.
 Among them, doing his hard work si- lently and without complaint. under a glaring sun, rode the coward, Abel Tut. All his efforts to enlist int ranks had been absolutely vain. Despairing of car rying rifle then, but determined to wipe out his disgrace by some means, he had II pa he had at last found means to follow the army he had once deserted. He knew little of the special work of a mule packer, but he was accustomed to horses and mules, and his persistency gained him a place as assistant.
 No one knew the misery he was in. No one knew of the fear which oppressed him. The village boys were quite right in their judgment of him. Abel was coward, as people judge cowardice. His flesh shivered at the mere thought of wound. He shrank and covered instinc- lively at the crack of a rife or the distant roar of heavy guns. In his boyhOod he had not realized the peril and, carried away by the contagious enthusiasm of comrades, had enlisted. only to run, pan- ic stricken, at the first gleam of the ene- myss bayonets. Now he was walking up to deaths domain with his eyes open, knowing and understanding the imminent danger, and he was afraid, horribly afraid. Yet he followed on and closed his teeth and prayed. The soul of the man had at last succeeded in ruling the body.
 
 An aid-de-camp spurred his horse and rode at a wild gallop down the forest road. There the shells were falling and bursting among the trees when they had finished their shrieking flight from the guns on the hills. As the staff officer rode on his life was momentarily threatened by Spanish sharpshooters in bushy tree tops.
 The aid-de-camp broke out of the jun gle strip again and gained the open. Here he found himself several hundred yards from his objective, a battalion of regular infantry who were slowly advancing up 8 hill, pouring in a hot fire on the Span iards who held the intrenched ridge. Their fire was heavy, but the Spanish fire, backed by artillery, was a deadly one, and here and there lay many blue coated soldiers stiffening in the long grass. The aid charged through the hail and drew up beside the major in com mand.
 ''The brigade generals compliments, sir," he panted. "It is vital that you keep the enemy busy at this point for at least another hour, when the re-enforce- ments coming up will permit a general advance. The general desires to know if you can do this with your present force. He can i'll spare the men, but if necessa- ry you can have another company. What shall tell him ?''
 "Tell him." said the major coolly, "that company will make no difference. I've men enough, I guess, but wait a mo- ment, please"
 He walked along the, rear of the skirmish line as calmly as if drilling on the target range and asked questions of a number of noncommissioned officers and men, while bullets spattered round him.
 "Please ask the general to not mind l sending men," he told the aid, "but for heavens sake to send me ammunition. l We don't average 20 rounds left per man. If he can't, why, I must fall l back"
 II can promise it in half an hour," said the aid. '"The pack mules have ar l rived.''
 The battalion continued it's dogged as- | sault, creeping up by inches, the men l throwing aside, one by one, everything | they dared to tighten them and make the |