The searchlight. [volume] (Culbertson, Mont.) 1902-current, 1909-10-01

stripped for action. cut only by
trenches or the wheels of guns. and
| torn by bursting shell. Two miles the
horses went parallel to the front;
then they headed to the left again and
| cantered up the deserted slope.
| II is the hand of God that puts
degree too much elevation in smok-
ing bore and that cuts a sh:apnel fuse
| a second too long. But it was pity
| and not profanity that was IN Inn.
| othy's curse when he raised his eyes
| painfully after the shrieking terror
| had passed. and saw Sheridan-Bedford
stretched silent on the ground ahead.
In a moment he was out of the saddle
and his hand was at his companions
heart. A fragment of the shell had
torn his breast and the blood was
rushing out in dark spurts.
You can't-help it," gasped the dy.
ing man. I'm done. Butt say-take
this-message. The Boer-center-
has pushed-too far ahead. The-left
of it's-exposed. The Red--brigade-
to charge. Understand"
EYES," said Timothy. and as he
spoke a smile of thanks fitted over
the face before him, and then, with
shudder, fed, and the English soldier
had passed in the old English way he
had learned at his public school. play
ing the game for the games sake to
the end.
The little New York reporter viewed
him for a moment in silence. Then
he pulled out his handkerchief and
spread 1t over the dead face.
"He was good sport" he said sol
EMMY. And this. by the strange
chance of war. was the requiem of
the Hon. Philip Fitz Herbert Howard
Sheridan-Bedford, captain in her maj
esty's army. beside the biers OF whose
people archbishops of Canterbury had
prayed and royal knees had bowed in
sorrow.
Nor was 1t lengthy service. Tim.
othy shook himself together with a
sigh and turned back for his horse.
He had his foot already in the stirrup
when thought struck him and he
stepped down again.
by CAD. that fat-head OF general
won't believe mel" he said. Hes
not going to take any orders from a
Yankee civilian"
The Red Brigadier had reputation
for three things: propriety, a brain
the size OF dried pea. and courage
as great as a furious bulls. He was
newly come and his brigade, fat fed.
fresh from England. was near weep
ing for a fight; but he would die In
his tracks before taking orders from a
war correspondent. The warm Irish
heart in Timothy's breast swelled
with sorrow at the thought. To his
credit the swelling was due no more
to grief at his own loss of tremen-
dous story than to the thought of the
wasted life before him. poured out In
vain II the message failed.
And then there flashed on him a
| great idea. At first he repealed II
with shame. But desire is sweet
master of logic and after a minutes
swift weighing OF chances he sue
cumbed.
81 may hang for It," he remarked
| jndicially, but it's the one chance.
The brigadier didn't know Bedford
from a rabbit. And he'd want 1t,
too" he added alphabetically. stoop,
ing over and raising the handkerchief
from the ashy face before him.
| The Red Brigadier sat beneath his
bomb-proof, in no aniable frame oil
mind. He was sick of lying helpless
under a flight of screaming shrapnel
and seeing his men dropping away b,
ones and twos on stretchers to the
rear. He wanted action. He wanted
Capt. Sheridan-Bedford. with ord
ders from the commanding general
sir"
Capt. Sheridan. Bedford stood befor,
him. a pale, hatcherfaced youngste
in a badly fitting uniform. wet an,
torn about the chest.
"well?" demanded the genera
sharply.
Gen. Butler says. sir. that tn
Beers have advanced their center to
far. The flank Is exposed. Your br
gade Is to charge"
"when?" demanded the Red Brig,
der.
"You may charge when ready, sir
replied Capt. Sheridan-Bedford. b
lips falling naturally into an oft-r'
. peated saying OF his people.
. Haven't you any further orders?'
"The general said to-to use yot
best judgment. sir"
The brigadier rose. and. mutterin
to himself something about youn
idiots appointed by influence. mao
for the door.
Five hours later the British war Q
I, fee was thrilling with the bleak c
= fetal report of the brilliant sacrifi,
= of the Red Brigade and the cons
. quent crumpling and ignominio,