The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1911-01-07
+ lame

Jack carried Chick through the old garden and into the boarding house, to the old sofa the sam old parlor.
 She had been shot through the right breast and thu blood from the wound was spreading her waise "Oh, Chickie, but why didn't go down witt Lappen!" Y "No no, don't think that, Jackie did love yos dear.'
 She choked little then and he bent over to raiss her up "Sweetheart,'' she whispered, "nearerkl There was speaking love and beauty in her eye1 He bent-stiH lower-and they kissed.
 "Its the truest kiss ever gave Jackie. If it6g a sin, then God help me-" Out of weakness sh6, rested while, looking at him, saying no word, buf looking. T never meant harm to nobody, Jackie-l to nobody never, never! All ever did just coudnt help. Before knew it was wrong those captaiu6, used to pick up and kiss me, and say things ~ me. But wasn't a bad girl-no more than thaat couldn't seem to help that, and surely they whtI used to know my father could mean no harm to msi But never after that day-that terrible day you iet me never was the after that day. That da1h the blood left my heart. used to cry the lou1 nights through And hated the name of whoevde might try to lead you astray And that was why about Lappen He promised different. =" | Jack feared she would speak no more but shI looked up to say And to-day, Jackie, got to thinking of when was little girl and you still . little boy, and asked Charlie Wing to let me go te that room. It was upstairs in the gambling part 0oou WoAeu uuH go there, put l went. And l Wa8 raising the window to look out into the garden ae you used to- but I saw you standing at the window there and drew back you would not see me, and just then Charlie Wing in and drew farther back into the room he wouldn't look out and see you And there a1one-and he misunder. stood When he shot didn't mind it much-only till you came in. He'll blame me again. thought But when you looked at me you did, didn't care any And I wasn't afraid for you I knew you could crush him if you wanted to. Remember the night you fought Prady? Every blow you struck that night I struck with you and every blow he struck you struck me. Poor Prady! We'll, God for give me if I'm to blame"
 "No, no-no. Chick"
 "Im glad to hear you say so, Jack Sometimes think my mother died too And about Grannic sweetheart Be good to her, won't you?'
 All the world remembers when the great battle fleet assembled at Hampton Roads, and how wonderfully the statement of it's commander-in-chef, prior to sailing, stimulated enstments, that uo the last hour the adventurous rushing aboard. Feast, fight froc,' whichever it was to be- they were hoping for the best.
 Stripped to their racing jerseys eyes glowing chests heaving, lips curling, but under control was a particular turret crew So would they strip and look in battle and eager to win real battle than Round about bags of powder piled up. Hardly prudent? No; but prudent people never make nations. The God of War there was the turret captain, Gatey, astrade of the entering hatch Wide-shouldered lean-waisted racing horse, through his ghtftting jersey his torso swened and his big arms, too, bulging with restrained
 A bag of powder tossed out without an explo- sion? How? Nobody knew could explain. The rules forbade speech till time up, and another shot remained to be fired. And that fred .sThe right hoist's afire" said somebody then, and the turret captain threw himself down through the four decks of the other ammunition hoist the handling room.
  Sparks of burning cloth began to fall on the steel deck of the handling room, and there were bags of powder not yet slowed. Don't touch that-dont wait for that-close magazine doors!" he called. and they him jump for the sizzling little spark they pulled to the magazine doors themselves in- side Almost with the cushioned shock of the closing doors came the flash and great pff-f!
 Two men came running in, just in time to see him standing with his crossed before his They him, too, smooth his yelids with the tips of his fingers. "It must be terrible be blnd," he said. The front of his jersey was charred hin body.
 The miracle of his escape overcame them aYou still alive, Gate?"
 Looks like it, don't it?"
 "Its sure your lucky day."
 "Must be, sonny lucky day" And he went up on deck The surgeon wished to have him brought below the hospital, but Gately said "1f don't mind sir, I'll stay up here" So they allowed him stay deck, where he walked the quarter from hs turret to the ships side with word to anybody and nobody word to him.
 This terrible selfrepression too much for some of his shipmates-they went away to cry. But never
 sign weakness in him till suddenly he turned and looked up at the flag.
 "Good-by, old ship-good ship, too" His voice was low-mu1led. "Good-by, old Navy. If only twas the real battle lne" and he sauted the flag. Turning, he found a ring of his shpmates inclosing him. "Good-by, fellows and then, in voice stiff low, but clear as the ships bel "Comng!" he called and fell fullength backward on the deck.
 The surgeon knelt above his body. Though hardly any need," he observed "He was fated from the first. He inhaled the flame, and it burned him out inside"
 Copyright 1s1o by Metropolitan Neospo,er Syndicate