Atlanta Georgian. [volume] (Atlanta, Ga.) 1912-1939, 1914-04-05
The
Better Man
CONTINUED from page O.
Continued from page O.

Later that night, however, Oie GaWSe,
his father negro kennel-master, brought the
news of these outrages to the young master
of Montfort House, who had just given
his orders for horse, dog, gun, and two
hundred Shells an hour before sunrise.
What" said the young man incredu-
lously "Do you mean to tell me the
Ritter people are already on the spot?"
Damn that Dutchman" muttered
young Clifton to himself, whoever he
may be! If his father fought mine all his
life over that fve-mile bit of sand and
stubble, I'll fight him-no fear! And I'll
show him who is the best mani!
And 50 it came about that in the still
dark hour before the dawn of a January
day, several million little stars looked down
at a Young man in shooting coat and leggins,
watched him curiously as he mounted his
horse, showed shotgun into the leather
bucket, adjusted saddle-bags, gathered
bride, and whstled a red-ticked setter to
follow out into the pallid luster of a cloudless
night.
Out into the plain he rode; and by a
jutting point of pines dismOunted, secured
his horse, slung gun-case and saddle-bags
across his shoulders and walked forward
across the open, his red-ticked comrade
wagging at his heels.
Searching the dim ground under foot,
where only grasses, ground briers, and dead
weeds clothed the nakedness of the sandy
plain, he stumbled, frequently catching toe
and ankle in thorny strands. And at
length he came upon a newly eXcaVated
shooting pit, and crawled into it, dropping
his burdens Vastly contented he laid
out a sack of shells, drew forth his gun and
assembled it, lighted a cigarette, and lay
back, one caressing hand resting upon the
licked settlers head.
"Well Speckles,' he murmured, " this
is pretty comfortable, isn't it?
Thump! went the ratty tail of Speckles
on the sand.
"You are not beautiful, are you?" in
quired his MASTER gently humorous.
you admit it, don't you"
But who cares?" smiled the young man
lazily massaging the dogs ears. You
know your business, they tell me. And he
who knows what is his business in life, and
then performs it, requires nothing further
from the gods. To embellish the surface
merely gilds the lily of character. And
that's some epigram, Speckles, believe me. >
wi
squatted cross-legged in his pit, scanning the
void above Presently a single dove, far
out of range, passed high to the right The
game was on
But he had not the slightest idea what
manner of game it promised to turn into
Another dove came over, speeding high
and wide of range; another; then three
together, then a dozen; then company alter
company, suddenly appearing above the
western woods, rushing high through the
sky overhead-all far far beyond range.
Then, as the flight streamed by into the
east, the binding disc of the sun appeared
and shot rosy beams and turquoise-tinted
shadows into the west. And at the same
instant two light reports sounded from the
plain directly in front of him.
Out of a rushing company of doves, which
had been driving straight toward his PIT
he saw two dark objects pitching swiftly
earthward; the flight swerved wide skirt
ing him, and was gone.
Before he could make up his mind Wat
to do, crack! crack! came from the plain
two black dots shcered downward, and d
vast rush of doves veered south of him.
Damn" said Clifton heartily, anc
sprang to his feet. But the distant dos
had vanished; the pit remained as invisible
as its insolent occupant; and even when two
more short, dry reports came to his ears
and he saw bunch of doves swing wide o.
him, he merely caught the CLINT OF gun
barrels above a waste of withered grass anC
weeds.
- 80. 80, ,,,,,+ Cor hin