The San Juan islander. [volume] (Friday Harbor, Wash.) 1898-1914, 1909-09-24

Duponceau had fallen, but on the second
he was up and on again, and now he had
found the last dune, and he must stand
| there or dash across the unprotected
beach.
'Come on 7" We fled down the stairs,
through the open door, and hard up the
shore. Now we could see another ele-
.nent of danger. Some of the enemy had
stolen through the pines, and were firing
at Duponceau down the length of his
dune.
Look 1 muttered. We stopped,
breathless, painting, wide-eyed. Dupon-
eeau burst out from the dune, whirled
about, fired back at the hidden foe, wheel
ed and shot at the men who were follow
ing him up the beach, and, turning, head
ed straight for the Ship.
Rum 1 murmured, and Rodney
echoed me- Run, Duponceau, run, and
may Heaven help"
have seen men run, but never as Du-
ponceau ran that day. He seemed to
skim, almost to fly, across that open
space, and behind him came his enemies,
no longer firing, no longer cursing, match
ing their speed against his frantic flight.
The Frenchman neared the rocks, was
on them, was up and clambering over the
Ships side. Then came a sharp report,
and 1 could see Dupponceau culver and
hang useless than useless, for he
was only half over the vessels rail.
He's done!" l breathed.
But as he hung there Barbara sudden
ly appeared beside him and pulled him
inboard, supported him across the deck,
and got him as far as the cabin door be-
fore he collapsed on the boards.
Barbara disappeared, and then reap
peared with something in her arms.
1.-THE chest ~ muttered. "He couldn't
forego that"
l saw Barbara lift and steady Dupon-
ceau on his feet, saw him clutch the box
with one hand, while he held revolver
in the other. He staggered across the
deck.
"Come ON" l breathed and we were
off for the Ship.
The long-boat was half way in when a
new shout threatened to sound Dupon-
ceau's death-knell. Men came out on the
cliff and stood high above him, ready to
fire down upon him. There was a ring
about him now-enemies on the rocks, on
the cliff, and men already scrambling
through the water to lay their hands on
him.
Look" cried Rodney. l saw Barbara
whisper in Duponceau's ear, saw him
straighten up to his full height and fire
at the men above him. One bullet ripped
into the cliff, another shattered an arm.
We stood now on the rocks, stones
throw off. Duponceau looked seward
and gave a cry. With terrible effort, he
leaped to the farther rail, raised himself
to plunge-the box still in his arms
into the sea, and sink or swim to help.
He balanced, crouched, and then-a clear
report and he fell, leg broken, down into
the waves. His stand was over, the fight
done; his enemies had taken him.
A couple of men lifted him from the
water and carried him to shore another
man followed with the chest Rodney
and 1 drew near and looked at him; he
was conscious, and only his set teeth
showed the agony he suffered.
cts over" he said 'The boat was
late" Then his eyes lighted on me, and
he tried to smile. "Good-by," he NUT
tered. 'Take my good-by to her.
Carefully the men lifted him and car
ried him into the pines.
''He will live" said Rodney briefly, and
I nodded. 1t was not for Duponceau to
surrender easily, though I wondered if
now he would not prefer it so.