The Manitowoc pilot. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1859-1932, 1902-03-06
The V6r6Cundlty OF :
Ldn0tleId
Bv HELEN ELLSWORTH WRIGHT.
WHEN the men OF the service left
AN tha military

and ONer-SenSlllNes dhb 'ii"' ''''' 80
he felt certain that Dolly could never
love him. TO be sure, he had had no
intention OF loving her, but when SIX
feet two of well-developed manhood,
in the person of Tom Perry, came
down from Circle City prospecting,
Iangfeld found that intentions and
love had very little to. do with each
other. Vainly he stood erect, but not
one cubit could he add TO his stature,
and every morning he square of look
ing-glass impressed afresh the red
ness of his hair upon him.
Tom and Dolly had known each
other in the states, and Langhelu
watched with hopeless pain the re-
newal of their friendship. She hao
grown shy with him since Perry came
and there could be but one reason ne
argued. He did not blame her; there
was nothing in him to inspire Wom-
ans love, and Tom So he packed
his flute and his knapsack and lett
with scarcely farewell.
The men were not fond of Langfield.
He had a way of shrinking into him
self, that only Shivers, the camp mas
cot, a lank mongrel Siwash with the
stump of tail, understood.
Mornings, when the Top Sergeant
gave his first call through the camp, II
was the warm tongue of Shivers that
brought Langfeld into touch with the
day, and later, when the company
lined up around the mess tent Tor
their rations of coffee and beans, the
man would seek secluded stump for
a table, with the dog huddled by his
side
LaIsyfield seldom joined the camp
fires. But when the fever broke out
Iangfield was the first to offer his
services. He was not afraid of con-
tagion. he told the sergeant and any
way. there was no one at home who
needed him. After that he and Shivers
took up their quarters in the hospital
tent.
The fever had its run. but only one,
thanks to the nursing, was borne up
the trail and laid away underline snow.
Langfield planed a piece of spruce
scantling and drove it in by the mound,
but his hand was unsteady, and his
eyes were heavy and dull.
The "Top Sergeant" on his rounds
the next morning, found him sitting
up in his blankets His face was swol-
len and discolored, and he was talk
ing eXctedly to Shivers.
You mustn't let Dolly get the
fever" he said; "she's so little. Nor
Tom-prorlise me you won't let Tom"
He leaned over and looked into ths
dogs pleading eyes. Shivers whined
and thrust his muzzle into his mas
ter's palm. "She couldn't help loving
him." Langfeld continued defensive
ly. "You know she couldn't, your
self" He fell back on the pillow and
tossed restlessly for a moment. It'll
be cool up there under the snow" he
began again, land / won't be heavy
to pack. And say" He sat up, pulling
the dog close to him, maybe she'll
forget-that my hair was-red."
The men were very tender to Lang
field after that, and Shivers seldom
left his bedside.
When, some weeks later. he became
convalescent, he seemed smaller and
sighter than ever, and his hair shone
more wildly red against the pnched,
white face. They carried him out into
the sunshine. but his eyes wandered
regretfully up to the snow.
In a month he was al his post again,
doing the work of two men, with
scarcely the strength of one.
He came down the mountain one
night an hour behind time. The trail
was slushy, and the early gray twilig ht
lent a soft indistinctness everywhere.
Suddenly he paused and stood looking
intently at line of fresh tracks in the
path. His first thought was of Shivers.
He always met him, but seldom so far
from the camp. Lighting ma tch, the
only one he had, he bent closer The
prints were too clean-cut for dog; the
opposites almost overlapped each
other, and Shirers was broad-chested.
Cautiously the man crept on, peering
about for another mark he knew. 1t
was there-a slight impression in the
mud, like the fringe of feather. Only
$50. the edge of a shaggy tail made that.
He stood up and looked around him
He was not afraid of death, but he had
medium, and a she-wolf hunting for a
family dinner was hardly to his liking
The camp was three miles away, and
the underbrush made a cross-cut i'm
possible; besides, the snow still lay in
the ravines There was one thing to
be done, and drawing his hat securely
down, he started forward, then paused
again, with his head raised to listen.
From somewhere there came a faint
cry, weak and indistinct, but undeni
ably human.
Langfield made trumpet of his
hands. "Hel-lo!" he shouted, anG
strained his ears for the reply.
Some ten feet down the trail 6
glacier stream had quilted out the
bank. It's icy, slate-colored waters fell
almost perpendicularly over the rocks
Creeping to the slippery edge, he
peered over and called again. A faint
voice answered