The Guthrie daily leader. [volume] (Guthrie, Okla.) 1893-1996, 1911-11-02

On the footboard behind, the austerc
Captain had seen-77 shrieked and walled
and beloved. The child stood stock-still,
petrificd with terror. The grays saw moth
ing, heard only the whistle screaming to
them for more speed
Patrick had not seen it like this. His
theory had presented itself for test. If he
swcryed foot to the right, there were the
pillars-iron. II he kept on, he must
crush the chiId-hesh Which should it
be2 Behind him the Captain was cursing
foamily.
Turn out! Turn!n he yelled through the
shattering din Of the whistles wild terror.
"Turn OUT Quick For Gods sake,
turn" yelled the black, hazy dots in the
trolley car windows.
Red d-headed, fresh-faced, bue-eyed Pat
rick ceased to be boy in thatinstant. His
face banched to gray. Devil Morgan's
sad brown eyes peered at him remorselessly
out of the wild past.
1t was all agonizing moment Of indecision.
He had never supposed it would be like
this. His duty to his helpless mates, to the
public, to himself, swept by in lightning
review The thought Of the fire far ahead
shot after them. His duty-he squared
himself the powerful muscles in his shoul-
ders and arms frightened.
Two thoughts, two distinct sensations
raced parallel in his whirling brain. He
knew how he should decide-yet he hesi-
tated. The agony unnerved him Only
second more remained. livery instant the
laundering team came nearer the motion
less figure of the child before him.
Patrick was beyond reason; his actions
had resolved themselves mercifully into the
primitive. surging up in him at the last !.
yard Of distance, just as the child found
tongue in heart-rending cry of more than
human despair, came the intuitive spirit of
Man.
Once more II, kissing and shrieking and
belching fire, hurled herself into the IRON
passed by the flesh.
1t was his profane, fire-scarred, kindly old
martinez of Captain who stood hdgeting
with his clumsy helmet at the white bedside
as Patrick opened his eyes some hours later
in the Mercy Hospital The veterans face
was anxious, his bristling mustache thrust
ing out hedgewise as he bent above the still
figure on the cot.
Patrick stared at him from an immeas-
urable distance, through veil of haze that
softcned and blurred the familiar features.
"Wha-2 What happened? 'she whis-
pered weakly wincing at the pain his
cracked ribs shot through him. Back
draught . ?" q
Sh, now-you mustn't talk. Every
things all right" the nurse replied. And /
the inferno, who had patched him up with
swift skill added Only a couple of cracked !
ribs my man. You'll be back on the job !
in day or so. !
But what happened-hoor go DOWN."
persisted the wounded fireman in feeble I
petulance. II don't understand \
Course you don't, lad" broke in the |!
Captain grimly Nobody does-but thev |
all doit, just tho same I'm proud o. yeb' I
Patrick sighed his annoyance and frowned. 4
1t was all a puzzles, He knew he was in the
hospital-that much was clear. But how
or why, he could not Imagine. Memory ran !,
back to the morning, 10 afternoon, to the (
couldn't they be decent and tell hinl2
The surgeon saw his trouble and whis-
pered to the Captain: " 1t may do him
good; you had better explain. This sus-
pense isn't doing him good now. Tell
him." M
The veteran nodded, and told him, bit by.
Bit helping out his paralyzed memory with
a rapid patchwork of narrative that brought
intelligence back into the blank eyes. When
he had finished, and the three stood quietly
by the bedside, Patrick closed his eyes, his
face set rigidly in lines whose pain was not
mere agony Of the body. The watchers
stepped little closer Slowly he looked
out at them again, and his lips moved.
They bent forward.
Il didn't understand when / said |
wouldn't TO it, he muttered, in scarcely
audible accents. And after pause for the
breath, whose coming and going tortured
him but family in comparison with his
thoughts: My God Suppose it had been
one o my kids ?"
/ knew, lad / knew!" exclaimed the
Captain, bending down and pushing some
thing indistinct into the range OF his vision. ;.
: knew ye was man, boy. Here's the
kid
Patrick opened his eyes again languidly.
too exhausted to wish for sight Of the lie
he had saved-sat bolt upright, regardless
Of pain and plaster cast
MaIyl My Mary-Godl" y