The Brookings register. [volume] (Brookings, Brookings County, S.D.) 1903-1971, 1912-12-19

But keep your secret. whatever 1t may
be. for it is hers also. and you have no
right to betray it,"
| grasped his hand again and stood
looking out into the dusty camp street
and over the hills in the distance.
"Who is with them?" l asked pres
emily.
MY younger brother, little Brent. He
is keeping the family alive while l am
doing what | can to keep alive its repu-
humor hat cut me like a knife. You
may not know how we feel about this
sort of thing down here" he added.
but to US it is quite as dear as life
itself"
He then told me that 1t was Miss FL
len who had urged him to go to the
front and who had given him the
strength to leave the Pines. From his
colonel | learned afterward that he
had enlisted as "a private. but was soon
given a commission for an excellent
record, and be owed his present place
to his ability to handle men and not
to political influences.
After that first meeting we saw each
other daily, and when not on duty to
gether we would light our pipes and
wander through the dusty and fever
stricken streets, smoke and talk Of
home. but never did we speak of Ellen.
though she was constantly in my
thoughts and believe In her brothers
also.
Disease had broken out In camp, and
typhoid ragged with deadly effect dur.
ing that long, cruel summer. One even
ing l went to bed feverish and not feel
ing myself at all. The day had been
n of horror in the camp. and dis
patches were flying between headquar
tiers and the war department The
evening shades brought no relief to the
tired soldiers. No one seemed to be
asleep. and the men were stretched
outside their dog tents. The ground
was dry and hot. and the moor hung
In the heavens like a great ball Of fire
Just as the midnight hour was called
l heard some one In the direction of
the Kentucky regiment, that lay across
the road from US. begin to whistle
the ''Old Kentucky Home" The notes
fell sweet and clear across the tented
field. Before be had finished a bar
some one tool up the tune and whis
tied a second. One after another join
ed in the melody, and finally there
was hardly a man In the regiment, so
1t seemed to me, who was not whis-
ting. 1t died away as suddenly as IT
had been inspired. and l think the
camp slept with sweeter rest for hav-
ing heard the serenade. fell into a
ftful sleep and walked to partial con-
sciousness only when reveille was
sounded.
made an effort to rise, but fell back,
too weak to move again. The surgeon
came in shortly after that and took my
temperature. 1t was with a sickening
sense of humiliation that I heard him
say that 1t was a bad case of fever.
Before I could be moved Bud came In.
and l learned afterward that he feared
! would be taken down. l turned my
eyes to him in mute appeal he touch
ed my hand kindly. and I drew him
e me.
III ! should die. Bud. will you tell
Miss Ellen that ] have always loved
her and that my last thoughts were Of
herY l said In a half whisper.
he pressed my hand for an answer
and placed his other on my fevered
temple. | heard him ask the doctor to
let him have charge Of this patient
His life Is dearer than my own" he
said. saw the surgeon nod his head
and heard him add that It would take
great nursing to pull me through.
1t was the last thing | remember for
many a day. | heard afterward how
he nursed me; how he slept by my cot