The Kinsley graphic. [volume] (Kinsley, Kan.) 1890-1940, 1901-11-29

in the open patio. The hospital
steward slowly turned down the
coverlet, and Mellen, well-nigh as
pallid as the corpse, was hidden to
look. Look he did, long and earnest
ly. The little weights that some one
had placed on the eyelids were lifted;
the soft hair had been neatly
brushed; the lips were gently closed:
the delicate, clear-cut features wore
an expression of infinite peace and
rest; and Mellen slowly turned AMI.
facing the official group at the neigh
boring table, nodded.
''You think you recognize the de-
ceased?" came the question. eff so,
what was his name?"
~''I think so. yes, sir. It's Foster
at least, that's what heard it was"
Had you ever, known him?-to
speak to?"
''He was in the same detachment
on the train. Don't know as 1 ever
spoke to him, sir" was the answer
"But you think you know him by
sight? Where did you first notice
him?"
"Think it was Ogden, sir. didn't
pay much attention before that. "A
man called Murray knew him and got
some money from him. That's how l
came to notice him. The rest of us
hadn't any to speak Of"
Ever see him again to speak to
or to notice particularly after you
left Ogden? Did he sit near your"
was the somewhat caustic query.
''No, sir. only just that once"
"But you are sure this is the man
you saw at Ogden?"
Mellen turned uneasiIy, unhappily,
and looked again into the still and
placid face. That meeting was on a
glazing day in June. This was a
clouded afternoon in late October and
nearly five months had slipped away.
Yet he had heard the solemn story
of the murder and had never, up to
now, imagined there could be q
doubt. In mute patience the sleep
ing face seemed appealing to him to
speak for it, to own it, to stand be-
tween it and the possibility of it's be-
ing buried friendless, unrecognized.
"It's-it's him or his twin brother,
sir" said Mellen.
"One question more. Had you
heard before you came here who was
illed?''
eyes, sir. They said it was Foster"
And now, with pencils swiftly ply
ing, several young civilians were edg-
ing to the door.
James Farnham was called, and q
sturdy young man, with keen, wealth.
er-beaten face, stepped into the little
open space before the table. Three
fingers were gone from the hand he
instinctively held up, as though ex-
pecting to be sworn. His testimony
was decidedly a disappointment.
Farnham said that he was brakema q
of that train and would know some
of that squad of recruits anywhere.
but this one-well, he remembered
talking to one man at Ogden, tall.
fne-looking young teller something
very like this one. This might have
been he or it might not. He couldn't
even be sure that this was one of
the party. He really didn't know.
But there was chap called Murray
| that he'd remember easy enough
anywhere.
1t was utterly unnecessary, said
certain bystanders, to question any
| more members of the guard, but the
| provost-marshal did, and not until
4:3O did he deign to send for the
most important witness of all, the
brother of the young girl to whom
attached. They had not long to wait
for Sandy Ray happened to be almos:
at the door.
The throng seemed to take another
long breath, and then to hold it as
the few preliminaries answered, Mr.
Ray was hidden to look at the face
of the decease d. Pale, composed, ye,
with infinite sadness of mien, the
young officer, campaign hat in hand
stepped over to the trestle, and tho
steward again slowly withdrew the
light covering, again exposing tina,
placid face.
The afternoon sunshine was wan
ing. The bright glare of the mid
day hours had given place within tho
Enclosure to the softer, almost shad
owy light of early eve. Ray had but
just come in from the street without
where the slanting sunbeams burst
ing through the clouds beat hot upor
the dazzling walls, and his eyes hat
not yet become accustomed to the
change. Reverently. pityingly, h
bent and looked upon the features o.
the dead. An expression, first of in
credulity, then of surprise, shot over
his face.
u IL - &c -