The Caldwell tribune. [volume] (Caldwell, Idaho Territory [Idaho]) 1883-1928, 1914-12-25


spoke. His voice had lost its parch.
ment crinkle and become natural. The
blue veins on his bullying temples were
little more pronounced, his thin fea-
lures little more pinched, but other
wise he was unchanged and he seemed
equal to another strain as heavy as
the one he had undergone.
I'VE have new government, a new
PREMIER" he said. THE old premier
was killed by shot from crowd that
he was addressing from the balcony of
the palace. After this, the capital be-
came Quieter. AS we get in touch with
the divisions, we find the army in bet
ter shape than we had feared it would
be. There is a recovery of spirit,
owing to our being on our own SOIL"
eyes," replied Westerling, drowning
in their stares and grasping at straw
only a panic, as l said. If" his
voice rising hoarsely and catching in
rage.
I'VE have new government, a. new
premier!" Turcas repeated, with firm,
methodical politeness. Westerling
looking from one fact to another with
f1lmy eyes, lowered them before Bou-
chard. There's a room ready for
Your Excellency upstairs" Turcas con-
tinued. THE orderly will show you
the way"
Now Westerling grasped the fact
that he was no longer chief of staff.
He drew himself up in a desperate
attempt at dignity; the staff saluted
again, and, uncertainty, he followed
the orderly, with the aide and valet
still in loyal attendance.
Two figures were in the doorway:
heavy-set market woman with a
fringe of down on her lip and cadav-
erous. tidily dressed old man, who
might have been a superannuated
schoolmaster, with bronze cross won
in the war of forty years ago on his
breast and his eyes burning with the
youthful fire of Grandfather Fraginis
They got the premier in the CAPT.
tai. We've come for Westerling! We
, want to know what he did with our
sons! We want to know why he was
beaten!" cried the market woman.
Eyes" said the veteran I'VE want
him to explain his lies. Why did he
keep the truth from us? We were
ready to fight. but not to be treated
like babies. This is the twentieth
century,"
1--WE want Westerling! Tell Wes-
terling to come out!" rose impatient
shouts behind the two figures in the
doorway.
You are sure that he has one?"
whispered Turcas to Westerling's aide.
yes" was the choking answer
yes. 1t is better than that"-with a
glance toward the mob. 81 left my
own on the table"
I'VE can't save him! We shall have
to let them"
Turcas's voice was drowned by a
great roar of cries, with no word ex-
cept "Westerling' distinguishable,
that pierced every crack of the house.
A wave of movement starting from
the rear drove the veteran and the
market woman and a dozen others
through the doorway toward the
stairs Then the sound of shot was
heard overhead.
THE man you seek is dead" said
Turcas, stepping in front of the crowd.
his features unrelenting in authority.
Now. go back to your work and leave
us to ours"
81 understand. sir" said the veteran
We've no argument with you"
"Yes!" agreed the market woman.
"But II you ever leave this range alive
we shall have one. So. you stay!"
Looking at the bronze cross on the
veterans faded coat. the staff salGted;
for the cross, though it were hung on
rags. wherever 1t went was entitled