The daily morning journal and courier., 1901-12-12

"Oh, Wiley" broke in the latter, we can't waste all night on this fellow" Just a moment, general. Now Gardner, explain how you came to be with the enemy"
 God of heaven!" walled the deser- ter what's the use? No one would be- lieve me-
 "oh, I don't know" said Wiley; 'it
 may not be as bad as that"
 Well" began the boy, drawing a
 deep breath" 1t was this way. This
 morning just about daybreak I heard
 quail cry off in the woods. It went
 Bob White! Bob White' and then
 'Bob-I- Whlte! I couldn't resist, It
 took me back to the Virginia brush
 took me back home. I wanted to see
 that quail stole away from our dog
 tent to the sound. It came again: Bob
 White! Bob-I-White!' went further
 and further into the woods, and after a
 while I gave the cry three times: Bob
 White. Bob White! Bob-I-White! The answer seemed to some nearer and nearer. I went on. I must have been some distance from camp then. Sud- denly three men in blue jeans and big straw hats sprang up from the brush and seized me. They covered my mouth and threw me down. One drew off as I struggled to get free and struck me on the back of the head with the butt of his gun. It's all matted there now. don't know what happened next. When came to my senses they were pushing and dragging me up the trail to the hill. The battle opened be- fore they could pass me back to the city and they made me lie in the trenches with them. I prayed to God shot would kill me there. When they retreated I couldn't run My legs wouldn't work. I didn't want to run; I wanted to be shot. Oh, you won't be- lieve me-" And the deserter's voice broke in a. great sob.
 "If your story's true" said the gen. eral, who was not much on sentiment, "whstle Bob White for us."
 The boy screwed up his Fps, but only a thin, expressionless sound came from them. Then it died away into nothing. He could not whistle Bob White"
 'Take him away" shouted the gen. eral the fellows lying" At a motion from Wiley. Barnes marched the poor wretch off to the guard tent, and then the general turned to the reports of the days events, which were being brought in by orderlies
 The following morning he was sitting in his hammock in very bad humor. Things had not gone altogether right the day before, and our army on the ridge was hanging on by its fingernails. The question of getting up rations and by the pack trains was grave one. Besides, the general had racking headache. What in the devils name is that?' he said suddenly, cock ing his ear. Clear as bell, and sweet as the accents of a child, there was no it: Bob White Bob White! Bob-I-White!' The general numbered up out of his hammock. He had been a farmers boy once, himself, and he knew the quail's cry, It came from the direction of the guard tent. The gen. aral waddled over with a groan, for his feet hurt him.
 The deserter was whistling Bob White" smoothly and sweetly. But there was a look of pain on his boyish face, and tears stained it.
 'So you can whistle Bob White said the general at a stand behind him, and holding himself up by sapling. He was puffing from his exertions.
 The deserter started.
 "Oh yes, general, I can whistle 1t Ill right"
 But you couldn't last night, Why vas that?"
 q was too scared, general. I couldn't Or the life of me.
 The general grunted and waddled l pack.
 Wiley" he said when his indispen- table aide reported. Turn that boy | oose. Send him back to his regi- | nent"
 All that day the battle ragged along | he ridge of San Juan and at evening | he Americans were still holding their | position, half dead from heat and with ] he wolf of hunger gnawing at their ritals. The general was riding slowly oward Fl Poso At the ford he met our men carrying a stretcher. On 1t ay a. bloody figure.
 'Is he hit bad?" said the general, ching up his horse.
 The men sat down the stretcher and he figure raised it's head. It was he ex-deserter.
 "Oh that's you, general. It ain't much. I got it In the thigh. I'll be 'ack up there tomorrow What a 'ully time I've had! I wouldn't have missed it for a farm! Say, general, ant the Ninth fight! You oughter seen tw
 General" said Barnes of the Sixth, or it was the rough old sergeant, "he's ind O lightheaded. But he's the right turf. He got it going for water for Is company when twas as much as our life was worth. And he fought 'ith the surgeons to get back on the ill"
 The general scribbled on piece of aper: "Colonel Dwight, do what you an for this boy"
 And then he turned his horse and plashed through the stream.
 Bob White! Bob IWhite! Bob vhite!" came from down the trail.- lew York Sun.
 -OTHING LIKE BAG PUNCHING. is the Ideal Exercise for Women in Cold Weather and a Cure for All |