Ellsworth American. [volume] (Ellsworth, Me.) 1855-current, 1902-01-01


a scene, lost my head. couldn't seem a
brute, so played the game: exchanged
rings. wrote foolish letters. tragic goodby.
and here we are"
'Morty, you are incorrigible." says Cur
son. Where Is her singf You would
like me to send II if-that Is, you would
like her TO have Il again " things don't
come right"
Bet would; she has got the ring the
dad left nie-family heirloom and all that.
The mater win want my young brother
to have II IL get out
With great difficulty he gets at chain
20 which Is attached medley OF articles.
and among them magnificent ring of
opais and diamonds. Curzon stretches
out his hand to take IL. giving q hearty
grasp TO the shaking hand that delivers
III, heavy gold circlct. An instant later
his eyes light on the ring: curious sound
comes from between his teeth. which are
closed over the pipestem.
mo; hit, Curzon2' almost screams
Mortlake.
mo: keep quiet, you fool: you will hurt
yourself The tone Is stern, and Mort
lake wrigeles back in his old position.
There is long silence; then, ''Morty.
lad. You never gave me the address. and
shall have to get your ring for youi
mother"
..oh. the address Is inside the letter. As
for my fing. trust you to get me out of
this final scrape. ms you have done &C
many others in days gone by"
Curzon suddenly asks. Il wonder In
know her?''
"Oh. yes: Of course you do. old chap
She told me your place was quite neat
her fathers aud that you had known her
as child. Cecil yereker--you must re-
member her.
For moment there Is dead silence.
Curzou grips his ride until the veins or
his hand stand out like whipcord and
mutters under his breath: known her
as child, Good God. and this Is how
the ring ! gave her comes back to me.
Wonder IL the ring left for her is guard
ing the heirloom of the Mortlake family
and IL other mems trinkets are hanging
on my watch chain? Heaven above--'un-
sophisticatedl' Shall tell him? Better
not: il be must 20, let him so Believing
her TO be what he thinks her. In he lives
well. IL be lives, as there Is a God In
heaven she will have to tell him. Bah,
And to thiak"-
''Curzon. do you think the end Is nearf
am getting awfuliy cold shivers down
my back. What Is the chance OF our
getting ont of this internal hole aiive?''
''Our ehascc depends upon how the
mounted troops draw them OF TO the
right. Take my coat. Morty; don't feel
cold. can wiggle out OF it,
No. hang II. am not as selfish ny nil
that. Curzon. Feel my heal. hii liz
This place Is becoming a we'll Cant see
l.. ~ l.. -.
Nonsense, man: pull yourself together
You'll pull through all right" Hi voice
has terrible anxious ring. however.
The whisky has gone 10 your head. You
want meal. that's what you want. and
warm blankets I've seen men live To
hale old age with a wad of lssd in their
insiies''
II don't believe there Is any left inside:
seems to hare gone clean through. and
expect tina; iafernal hem
shut up. Morty. Keep up your ol,,
time grit. Think | hear horse gallopiug.
and no man would be such an ass II they
are not r,freating." Looks carefully OUT.
tLcn ducks.
''Jove, II l. mounted officer. and ;hete
come stre'chsr bearers. Hold up. old
man. well IN you all right" Shouts for
stretcher bearers. waying his hat on his
rife. Two inmates later five men are
bending over Mortlake: one, a surgeon.
makes hasty examination OF wound. cut
ting away uniform. Curzon kneels be.
side his friend. who writhps with pain.
bis lips pressed between his teeth as the
hy podermic syringe is quickly called into
service.
Bullets begin to pillow up the earth
close 10 the little group. Curse the COW
ards. they always aim at the bearers
growls one man.
Surgeon-Ail right here. Lucky es
cape for the lad, Clean fresh wound.
Can't spare much blood though. looks as
if he needed food
Thank God" from Curzon.
From MortlaSe. family: Afraid
made bit OF an ass OF myself. old chap"
Surgeon on. men. getting too
hot: try and get him out Of harms way.
A bearer sinks TO the ground with a
bullet in his ankle. Curzon rises and
takes his place hurriedly. lays MoTi.ake
gently on the siretcher. and they move off.
the ring. still In Curzon's hand. pressing
into the palm as the weight Of the
streteher begins TO tell
stop a second" he calls to the front
bearer: must shift weight bit: am
fearluliy SIN. 4 neD he draws long
breath. squaring his broad shoulders and
stretching his limbs with delight. This
is better than that sodden hole; bullets or
no bullets. one is man again"
'Curzon. FOR Gods sake. hurry" comes
In feeble tones from the stretcher.
AT that moment Curzon pitches head
long in the mud. The ring from bis open
hand rolls TO one side. the surgeon steps
up to take bis place. aud bis foot presses
the shining jewels deep into the African
mud. mixed now In red paste. Gives
one glance AT the face as he turns Cur
zon over.
'Devils-clean through the heart A
brave man gone. Can you stand troi.
man? Our only chance" The surgr0u
does not wait for nn answer. but takes
the handles OF the stretcher and heads
for the nearest dressing station.
Curzon sleeps undisturbed on the DARK
ening veldt. with his outstreiched habl
pointing toward the buried ring.-New
York Evening Post.