The Weiser signal. [volume] (Weiser, Idaho) 1890-1904, 1901-08-01


menaced but dare not attack. The
Primeval Dudes, sorely missing their
calmly energetic colonel, had drifted
into war of words with their nearest
neighbors on the firing line, far west
ern regiment gifted with great com
mand of language and small regard for
style. The latter had crowed nightly
over their more vigorously disciplined
comrades because of the compliments
bestowed on them in an official report,
wherein the Dudes received only honor
able mention. 1t was Capt. Stricken of
the volunteers who had led the dash on
the rebel works across the Tripa to the
left of Blockhouse ~. 1t was their
Sergt. Finney who whacked Filipino
major with the butt of his Springfield
and tumbled out of him the batch of re-
ports and records that gave the num-
bers and positions of every unit of
Pillars division on the southwark zone.
1t was their Corporal Norton who got
the Mauser through the shoulder just
as, foremost in the rush, he bayoneted
the last Tagal at the Krupp guns in the
river redoubt. 1t was his devoted
bunky, Private Latrobe, who volun-
teered to carry the division COM
mander's dispatch across the open rice
field and the yawning bitches that sep
arated the staff from the rest of the
charging -teenth, and who died glo-
riously in the rush on the rebel works.
Man-after man of the woolly westerners
had been referred to by name, while the
Dudes had nothing to show but their
wounded colone's modest report that
where every officer and man appeared
to do his whole duty it would be un-
just to make especial mention of even
limited few" The Dudes were getting
hot over the taunts of the "Toughs,"
as some one had misnamed their neigh
bors; and one night when there was
more or less interchange of pointed
chaff in lieu of a fight with common
foe there was heard shrill voice from
the flank of the rife pit nearest the
westerners, and what it said was re-
peated in wonderment over the brigade
before the Dudes were another day
older.
'Well, dash your thievin' gang! We
made our record for ourselves, any
how. We didn't have to rely on any
dashed deserters from the regulars-as
you did"
And that was why Sergt. Sterne, of
| the Dudes, was sent for by the field
officers of both regiments the follow
ing morning and hidden to explain,
which he did in few words. He was
ready to answer that the wounded
Corporal Norton was the very same
young man he saw in the adjutants
Office of the -teenth regulars at Camp
Merritt, and was then called Morton.
And that evening the veteran sergeant
! major of the -teenth was hidden to
report at the reserve hospital in Err
mita, close to the Malate line, was con-
| Quoted to the bedside of pallid young
soldier whose ticket bore the name of
Norton, and was asked to tell whether
he had ever seen him before.
81 have, SIR" said the veteran, sadly
and gravely. "He is deserter from the
-teenth. His name on our rolls was
Morton" And that night Col, Arm
strong cabled to "Primate." New York,
the single word Found" Nor was it
likely the lad would soon be lost again,
for sentry with fixed bayonet stood
within ten feet of his bed with orders
not to let him out of his sight second.
Mrs. Garrison appeared at the hos
pital that very evening and heard of the
episode, and reached Billy Gray's bed
side looking harassed, even baggard.
During the past three days she had been
accorded admission, for Gray was so
much improved there was no reason to
longer forbid; but on each occasion the
wounded volunteer officer and the brace
of attendants present had precluded all
possibility of confidential talk She
must bide her time. Gray would be up
in few days, said the doctor; and then
nothing would do said Mrs. Garrison,
but he must be moved to their big,
roomy, lovely house on the bay side,
and be made strong and well again
made to give up those letters, too.
thought she; for she had wormed it out
of bystander that packet of some
kind had been given by the dying sol
der to the lieutenant, and she we'll
knew what it must be. She had even
penned him a little note, since not a
whisper could be safely exchanged, and
headedit: Give this back to me the mo-
mentyou have readit." Init she remind
ed him of his promise, and-did he need
to be reminded of hers? She knew that
packet of Nita's letters had been in
trusted to his care. She assured him
she had it straight from the surgeon
who attended both Latrobe and him
self, and they must reach the hands of
no man on earth, but must come to her.
Would he not give them at once or tell
her where she could find them?
He gave back the note, but closed his
eyes and turned away. In the presence
of Armstrong day after day. and in the
recollection of Latrobe's dying face and
the last parting touch of his stricken
hand, Gray's eyes were opening to his
own deplorable weakness. She plainly
saw her power was going, if not gone.
He had wrapped silk handkerchief
about the packet and still kept it, with
his watch and purse, beneath his pillow.
He would not tell her where it lay. She