The Mount Holly news. [volume] (Mount Holly, Burlington Co., N.J.) 1891-1942, 1906-05-08
Michael Jc
Copyright, 1908, by Ruby Douglas


ping cold and Burgess thrusts. Moth
ing but sudden death could have kept
him away. Sylvia Gerrish was there.
But the joy of being near her was
dashed by the thought that Burgess
was nearer still-beside her, in fact.
To secure that coveted place their host
had boldly ordered his rival to the
front seat.
Any man with red blood In his veins
could scarcely blame Burgess for his
maneuvering The girl was a bewitch-
ing little figure, muffied in furs, CO.
quettish red tam-o' shanter setting of
her piquant face and mischievous eyes.
Burgess had never seen her look pref
tier, and he glowed with satisfaction at
his neat disposal, for the drive at least.
of his rival
Meanwhile the sweet tempered CORN
ley, by nature almost too submissive,
was near to being reused He was
flashing himself In bitterness of spirit.
1t had always been SO. Fate had made
him the football of Rex Burgess, even
in schoOldays. Burgess was big and
brave and handsome, while he was
slight and pale faced. The boys had
nicknamed Gormley Molly" because
he had once tainted at the sight of
blood Burgess father was the wealth
lest man in Slocum, and every cent of
the money would one day belong to
Rex, for he was the only child.
Regardless of the merry chatter and
the snatches of song from the others,
Gormley plunged deeper into his mel
ancholy reflections. He, puny clerk in
dry goods store, to aspire to Sylvia
Gerrish's love against one SO favored
Of gods and men as Burgess!
His cheeks burned, too when he
thought Of the others contemptuous
reference to "cavalrymen." Frankly,
he admitted, it was ridiculous that he,
MOLLY" Gormley, should have martial
aspirations. Yet when the state mill
tary board had offered Slocum the
equipment for a troop Of cavalry for
the national guard Gormley had been
unanimously chosen captain. And he
was the man for the place. He could
ride. 1t had always been the sport In
which he excelled. He knew the mon
key" drill of the United States cavalry
as he knew the alphabet.
They talk of Cossacks and BedOuin
Arabs and Indians and the way these
savages handle a horse, but the man
who follows the yellow guidon is lit
tie the best horseman of them all. And
Captain Molly" Gormley, Troop A,
First cavalry, state troops, rode like a
backed over the hurdles or standing,
each foot planted firmly on the back of
a galloping horse. Besides the first
qualification Of q cavalryman he had
the other requisite for an officer, the
gift of command, and even West Point
can't touch that So despite the fact
that his body quailed at the sight of
blood Gormley's spirit sang with the
notes of the bugle when Troop A, two
long straight lines of men and horses
moving beautifully In unison, passed
in review at camp.
The thought of his creation-he had
made Troop A the pride Of the national
guard in the two years 1t had been or
ganized-gradually hghtened the gloom
which had overspread Gormley's spir-
its. He reflected with considerable COM
fort that Burgess could not ride well
The big fellow did not understand
horses and feared them. The bully in
him crept out, too, on horseback. He
thought it merely discipline to jerk the
head of his mount cruelty and without
reason. Burgess was not member of
Troop A. Maybe this fling at ~cavalry-
men" had been due to envy.
Even the possibility that Burgess en-
We'd him was balm to Gormleys sore
heart. And if he could only plan it so
as to sit by Sylvia on the homeward
journey now his cup of Joy would be
depths of despair almost to the pima
Gle of bliss in one short half hour, but
Gormley was young, and youth has
hope for heritage
Insensibly the young man was at
tracted by the beauty Of the night.
The FURNISHED moon glistened on mil
lions of tiny floating frost crystals I'M
til they sparkled like diamond dust.
To the westward the black roadway
unrolled before them like a velvet
ribbon. Beaver creek crossed beneath
1t hundred yards away. From the
lowland bordering the creek the road
had been graded to a height of fifty
feet, and the embankment was mar
row, steep and dangerous. A railing
on each side hedged in the roadway.
Tonight nothing was visible below
that railing. A mist, white and soft
as cotton wool, rose from the swampy
low ground and rolled in noiseless bill
lows to the height Of the road. The
advance Of the Gathering wagon and
its occupants into this heaving white
silence seemed almost uncanny. 1t
was as a sea which might rise and
engulf them.
The others were similarly impressed,
it would seem, for the talk was some
what quieter. The team after three
miles Of brisk movement was getting
warmed up and danced spiritedly. The
driver took fresh grip Of the reins,
for careful work was needed, especial
Iy at night, in crossing Beaver creek
fats. He pulled strongly to bring the
horses to a walk, then lunged back
ward suddenly. The right rein had
broken near his hand.
What followed for the first paralyzed
moment was like scene from horrid
dream to Gormley. There was a con-
fusion OF shouts and shrieAs from the
wagon box behind. The horses were
crowded to the left of the road by the
pull of the one sound rein, to which
the driver still chung stupidity. They
plunged into the railing; 1t cracked,
then gave way beneath their weight
The nigh horse was partially OF the
road, scrambling desperately with its
hind foot on the treacherous side Of the
embankment. And still the relentless
rein, dragging at the frenzied animals
b4ts, impelled them ever the edge Of