The Morris County chronicle. [volume] (Morristown, N.J.) 1877-1915, 1903-12-25

and a report and Bruce collapsed, the
Duke still gripping him. When they
lifted him up he was found to have an
ugly wound in his arm, the bullet hav-
ing passed through the fieshy part.
bound it up as best l could and tried
to persuade him to go to bed. But he
would go home. Nothing could stop
him. Finally the Duke agreed to go
with him, and off they set, Bruce loudly
protesting that he could get home alone
and did not want any one.
1t was dismal break up to the meet,
and we all went home feeling rather
sick, so that it gave me no pleasure
to find Moore waiting in my shack for
my report eff Bruce. 1t was quite vain
for me to axe light of the accident
to him. Htss%yes were wide open with
anxious fear when | had done.
You needn't tell me not to be anX
ious," he said. You are anxious your
self, l see it, I feel it."
We'll there is no use trying to keep
things from you,' | replied. But | am
only Il little anXloCs. Don't you go
beyond me and work yourself up into
a fever over it"
NO" he answered quietly, but
wish his mother Were nearer
"Oh, bosh, 1t isn't coming to that
But l wish he were in better shape.
He is broken up badly without this
hole in him.
He would not leave till had prom
Used to take him up the next day.
though l was doubtful enough of his
reception. But next day the Duke
came down, his black bronco lingo
wet with hard riding.
Better come up, Connor," he said
gravely, "and bring your bromides
along He has had bad night and
morning and fell asleep only before |
came away. | expect he'll wake in de-
lirium. Its the whisky more than the
bullet. Snakes, you know"
In ten minutes we three were on the
trail for Moore. though not invited,
quietly announced his intention to go
With lis.
"Oh, all right" said the Duke indif-
ferently He probably won't recog-
il-e gu any way
We rode hard for half an hour til!
we came within sight of Bruce
shack, which was set back into a little
poplar bluff
Hold up" said the Duke WAS
that shot?' We stood listening. \
rife shot rang out. and we rode hard.
Again the Duke halted us, and there
oh r
singing. 1t was an old Scotch tune.
The Twenty third Psalm" said
Moore in low voice.
We rode into the bluff, tied up our
horses and crept to the back of the
shack. Looking through crack he
tween the logs. | saw grewsome
thing. Bruce was sitting up in bed
with IA Winchester rifle across lis
knees and belt of cartridges hanging
over the post His bandages We're
torn Of the blood from his wound
was smeared over his bare arms and
his pale CHASTITY face, his eyes We're
wild with mad terror, and he was
shouting at the top of his voice the
words:
1.-THE Lord my Shepherd, I'll not want
He makes me down to lie
In pastures green; he leadeth me
The quiet waters by"
Now and then he would stop to say
in an awesome whisper, Come out
here You little devilsw And bang
would 80 his rife at the stoyepipe,
which was riddsed with holes. Their
once more IN loud voice he would
hurry to begin tbe psalm;
THE Lords my Shepherd
Nothing that my memory brings to
me makes me chill like that picture
The low log shack. now in cherries
disorder: the ghastly object upon the
bed III the corner With blood smeared
face and arms and mad terror in the
eyes: the awlu cuis.ags and more
awful psalm singluS punetuated by
the quick report Of tile deadly rifle.
For some moments we stood gazing
ut one another, Then tie Duke said
in a low, fierce tone, more 70 himself
than 70 us:
eThis is the last There'l be no
more Of this cursed folly among the
boys
And l thought it wise thing in the
I1;iot fhaf no a,,ssxxrerad no4 a word