Harrisburg telegraph. [volume] (Harrisburg, Pa.) 1879-1948, 1914-09-30
THE LAST SHOT
By FREDERICK PALMER

the TOtu lHlO lie IL.
When. finally, they burst into the
redoubt after 1t was found that the
Browns had gone, all, even the judges
son, were the war demons own. The
veneer had been warped and twisted
and burned off down to the raw ami
NAL flesh. Their brains had the fever
itch of callouses forming Not sign
of brown there in the yard; not sign
of any tribute after all they had en-
dured! They had not been able to lay
hands on the murderous throwers of
hand-grenades. Far away now was
barrack-room geniality; in oblivion
were the ethics of an inherited civili-
zation taught by mothers, teachers and
church.
But here was a house-a house of
the Browns; big, fine house! They
would see what they had won-this
was the privilege of baff1ed victory.
What they had won was theirs! To
the victor the spoilsl Pell-mell they
crowded into the dining-room, Hugo
with the rest, feeling himself straw
on the crest of a wave, and Pilzer,
most bitter, most ugly of all, his short,
strong teeth and gums showing and
his liver patch red, lumpy, and trem.
bling. In crossing the threshold of
privacy they committed the act that
leaves the deepest wound of wars in
heritance, to go on from generation
to generation in the history of fami-
lies.
"A swell dinins-room! l like the
chandeliers!" roared Pilzer.
With his bayonet he smashed the
only globe left intact by the shell fire.
There was a laugh as a shower of
glass fell on the floor. Even the
judges son, the son of the tribune of
law, joined in. Pilzer then ripped up
the leather seat of a chair This In.
troductory havoc whetted his appetite
for other worlds of conquest as the
self-chosen leader of the increasing
crowd that poured through the door
way.
Maybe there's food!" he shouted.
Maybe there's wine!"
Food and wine!"
"Yes, wine! We're thirsty!"
And maybe women! I'd like to kiss
pretty maid servant" Pilzer added,
starting toward the hall.
"Stop!" cried Hugo, forcing his way
In front of Pilzer.
He was like no one of the Hugos of
the many parts that his comrades had
seen him play. His blue eyes had be-
come an inf1exible gray. He was stand
ing half on tiptoe, his quivering
muscles in tune with the quivering
pitch of his voice:
I'VE have no right in here! This is
private house!"
Out of the way, you white-livered
little rat!" cried Pilzcr, cor I'll prick
the tummy of mammals darling!"
What happened then was SO sudden
and unexpected that all were vague
about details. They saw Hugo in a
catapultic lunge, mesmeric in it's swift
ness, and they saw Pilzer go down, his
leg twisted under him and his head
banging the floor. Hugo stood, half
for another encounter.
Fracasse, entering at this moment,
was too intent on his mission to con-
slider the rights of a personal differ
ence between two of his company.
There's work to do! Out of here,
quick! We are losing valuable time!"
he announced, rounding his men to-
ward the door with commanding ges-
lures. I'VE are going in pursuit."
Marta, who had observed the latter
part of the scene from the shadows Of
the hall, knew that she should never
forget Hugos face as he turned on Pill
zer, while his voice Of protest struck
a singing chord in her jangling nerves
1t was the voice OF civilization, of one
who could think out of the orbit of
whirlpool of passionate barbarisn
She could see that he w1s about
spring and her prayer v.
lean She g1oried In -.