The Guthrie daily leader. [volume] (Guthrie, Okla.) 1893-1996, 1911-11-04
iii, q. z.:s-s.
- ~ q sifsll As'S

SIlnncu HdpPHy. ~
At the head Of the pelting companies
came sudden rafting, the sound OF tearing
, cloth and profanity
1.-THE cutters, quick" painted Morton,
and the wire-cutters shipped spitefully.
The lines punched and then shot forward as
the pressure stopped, and six little spurts OF
fame showed against the black bulk OF the
bluff. M
Faster yelled the officers. "They see
us now!'
The dark figures breasted the first slopes.
For an instant the protecting shrapnel flew
thicker and then stopped. The cautious
Thatcher was taking no chances Of shelling
his own men, The flashes of flame on the
hill grew thicker, and cracked bugles crowed
sharply Men stumbled and sprawled
through the tangle Of barbed wire, but they
went on Once Morton stopped long
enough to assure himself that the din on the
right was still sounding,
My wooden horses still toddle!" he said
to himself.
With red, angry fash that seemed to
belch from the underworld one of the
enemy's mines exploded, and in the sudden
food Of light the hurrying men could see
dark objects sprawling through the air
which made them shudder. The rattle of
rifles in the trenches above them grew-but
no searchlight pierced the blackness; one Of
Thatcher's shells had put out the great eye.
The enemy's fire was heavy, but he had
been fairly caught, and his volleys -jerked
out with nervous haste-went high.
Without firing shot, the cumps and
lines Of shadowy figures climbed steadily UP
the HILL The plunging fire Of their oppo-
nents came down on them hotter and hotter
as the baffled, frightened defenders swarmed
back to their trenches; ground-mines
crashed into fame on all sides, and the
paralyMng tangle of wires grew thicker
Morton tripped over wire and fell sprawl
ing into ditch. His cropping hands encoun-
tered rifle whose barrel was hot, and a
litter Of tinkling empty shells He got to
his feet with shout
"We're in the first trench!" he shouted
above the din "We've got 'em!n
He could see the dim figures about him
spurt forward as he shouted. The whistle
of bullets above his head sounded steady as
the seudding of sleet before the wind as the
encmys lines saw the attacking host sweep
closer. The night had become bedlam; the
din Of the real attack mingled with the
racket Of the noisy demonstration along the
railroad The muttering storm broke, and
the rumble Of thunder and flash Of light
ming fought for supremacy with battery and
searchlight.
Shadowy figures, working the bolts Of
their rifles with frenHed fingers fitted be-
fore Morton's eyes, and melted back into
the night He could hear the painting Of
his own infantry as they commenced using
bayonet and rife-butt. Bugles along the
whole line of the enemy's position COM
menced Historically sounding the same call
over and over. Morton was suddenly sur
prised to find himself on level ground, his
feet clear Of the tangle of wires and the pit
falls OF the trenches. About him were
wildly cheering, shouting figures and over
beyond, the dim retreating mass which must
be the enemy. Above the tangle Of figures
he could see the white points Of hight which /
marked the city. They had carried the
hillsl
F In the dim light Of early morning, That
cher rode at the head Of his battery through
the streets Of the captured town, his am
munition wagons empty, but his guns freshly
cleaned and spotless. Thatcher's uniform
had been cleaned and buliedintoa scnblance
of respectability; he carried his saber at the
correct angle, and the steel-bowed glasses
sat firmly on the bridge of his long nose. As
he rode, he peered about him curiously to
note the havoc wrought by his own guns
and was mildly disappointed. Altogether.
Thatcher did not quite approve OF the siege
The artillery clattered out of a shady resi-
dence street into little square, fanked by
stores on four sides. In the doorway Of one
of them stood a pair of strange figures,
looking even stranger in the dim, unceytsan
light of early morning. Thatch,r's ree.4ns3
glance swung round from the fuuntsini
which had been knocked INTO undphtiykiss
by his own shells, and rested on The pair In
the doorway. He binked and looked
again
A rather stubby, round man, hatless--
clad in a dirty brown uniform, his sleeves
rolled to the elbow, his trousers and puttees
torn into ribbons, and bloody bandage at
a rakish angle across his forehead--stood
holding By thesesslS n fat. afemblins Chef
his white cap pushed crafty onto the back
Of his head, his pop eyes fairly bristling with
terror, his pudgy hands waving franticaliy
before him.
Billy Thatcher" yelled the disrepu-
table figure in brown, so suddenly that the
nearly fell from his horse.
f for the lowe ~ Heaven come IN n nj s.e -.
eat that dinnerl I've held this fat frog just
as long as ! canl"