Waterbury Democrat., 1902-02-22
The V6r6CundltU Of
 LdnOfl6ld
By HELEN ELLSWORTH WRIGHT.
vLTHEN the men of the service left w Valdez to build the military

and oyer-sensitive, and that was why 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 we1l-developed manhood' in the person of Tom Perry, came down from Circle City prospecting, I,anefeld found that intentions and love had very little to do with each other. Vainly he stood erect, put not one cubit could he add to his sta1ure' and every morning the square of look ing-glass impressed afresh the req ness of his hair upon him.
 Tom and Dolly had known eacn other in the states, and Langneld watched with hopeless pain the re newal of their friendship. She had 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 le1t with scarcely farewell
 The men were not fond of Langfield. He had way of shrinking into hlm- self, that only Shivers, the camp mas  stump of a tail, understood.
 Mornings. when the ''Top Sergeant" gave his first call through the camp, It was the warm tongue of Sh1vers that brought Langfield into touch with the day, and later, when the company lined up around the mess tent for their rations of coffee and beans, the man would seek secluded stump for table, with the dog huddled by his side
 Langfield seldom joined the camp fires. But when the fever broke out, Langfield was the first to offer his services. He was not afraid of com 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 it's run, but only one, thanks to the nursing, was borne up :. the trail and laid away under the snow Langfeld planed 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 excitedly to Shivers.
 You mustn't let Dolly get the fever," he said; "she's so little. Nor Tom-promise me you won't let Tom. :" He leaned over and looked into the dogs pleading eyes. Shiyers whined and thrust his muzzle into his mas ter's palm. "She couldn't help loving him." Langfield continued defensive 1y. "You know she couldn't, your self" He fell back on the pillow and tossed restlessly for moment. It'll be cool up there under the snow," he began again, 'sand I 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 shghter than ever, and his hair shone more yiyidly red against the pinched, white face. They carried him out into the sunshine, but his eyes wandered respectfully up to the snow.
 In month he was at 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 twilight lent 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 match, the only one he had, he bent closer. The prints were too clean-cut for dog; the opposites almost overlapped each other, and Shivers was broad-chested. Cautiously the man crept on, peering about for another mark he knew. It was there-a slight impression in the mud, like the fringe of feather. Only the edge of shaggy tail made that. He stood up and looked around him. He was not afraid of death, but he had a deci4e6 preference regarding its 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 cross-cut im- 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 faint cry, weak and indistinct, but undeni- ably human.
 Langfeld made trumpet of his hands. "Hel-loI" he shouted, and strained his ears for the reply.
 Some ten feet down the trail a glacier stream had gullied out the bank. Its 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.
 steep, shelving path was just visible, and he clambered down to it, scratched and torn by the brambles t every step. A little farther on roll of blankets impeded his way. and he knew that somewhere in the ravine be- low he would find prospector.
 The man proved to be a big fellow, but the light was too dim to see his race. The force of his fall had weCged one leg between the crevices of rock, and it took Langfeld's entire strength to extricate him. He pressed his can-