The Caldwell tribune. [volume] (Caldwell, Idaho Territory [Idaho]) 1883-1928, 1914-10-23

other heads while he fingered his
whistle. The instant that Eugene
Aronson sprang over the white post
a blast from the whistle began the
war.
1t was a signal, too. for Stransky
to play the part he had planned; to
make the speech of his life. His six
feet of stature shot to it's feet with
a Jack-in-the-box abruptness, under
the impulse of mighty and reckless
passion.
Men, stop firing!" he howled thun-
derously. Stop firing on your broth
ers! Like you, they are only the
pawns of the ruling class, who keep
US all pawns in order that they may
have champagne and caviare. Com
rades, I'll lead you! Comrades, We'll
take white flag and go down to meet
our comrades and Wen find that they
think as we dol I'll lead you'll"
The appeal was drowned in the
cracking Of the rifles working as regu-
larry as punching-machines in a fac
tory. Every soldier was seeing only
his sight and the running figures un.
der 1t. Mechanically and automatical.
ly, training had been projected into
action, anticipation into realization. A
spectator might as we'll have called to
a man in a hundred-yard dash to stop
running, to an oarsman in race to
jump out of his shell.
The company sergeant sprang for
Stransky with an oath. But Stransky
was in no mood to submit. He felled
the sergeant with a blow and, reck,
lessly defiant, stared at Dellarme,
while the men, steadily firing, were
still obliVious Of the scene. The SER
geant, stunned, rose to his knees and
reached for his revolver. Dellarme,
bent over to keep his head below the
crest, had already drawn his as he
fastened toward them.
"Will you get down? Will you take
your place with your rifie?" demanded
Dellarme.
Stransky laughed thunderously in
scorn. He was handsome, titanic, and
parbaric, with his huge shoulders
stretching his blouse, which fell loose
ly around his narrow hips, while the
fist that had felled the sergeant was
still clenched.
mol" said Stransky. "You won't
kill much If you kill me and you'd kill
less If you shot yourself! God Al
mighty! Do you think I'm afraidP Me
| -afrajd?"
His eyes in a bloodshot glare, as
uncompromising as those of bull in
an arena watching the next move Of
the red cape of the matador, regarded
Dellarme, who hesitated in admiration
OF the picture Of human force before
him. But the old sergeant, smarting
under the insult of the blow, his sand.
stone features notified with red
patches, had no compunctions Of this
order, He was ready to act as execu-
toner.
IF you don't want to shoot, l can!
An example-the law! There's no
other way Of dealing with him! Give
the word!" he said to Dellarme.
Stransky laughed, now in strident
cynicism. Dellarme still hesitated
recollecting Lanstron's remark. He
pictured Stransky In last stand In a
redoubt, and every soldier was as
precious to him as a piece Of gold to
a miser.
zone ought to be enough to kill me
If you're going to do it to slow music"
said Stransky. "You might as we'll
kill me as the poor fools that your
poor fools are trying to"
Another breath finished the speech;
a breath released from a ball that
seemed to have come straight from
hell. The fire control officer of q reRi-
ment Of Gray artillery on the plain,
scanning the landscape for the origin
of the rifle-flre which was leaving
many fallen in the wake Of the charge
of the Gray infantry, had seen a figure
on the knoll. "How kind! Thank
you'll" his thought spoke faster than
words. No need of range-fnding!
The range to every possible battery
or infantry position around La Tir
was already marked on his map. He
passed the word to his guns,
The burst Of their first shrapnel.
shell blinded all three actors in the
scene on the crest of the knoll with
Its ear-splitting crack and the force OF
Its conclusion threw Stransky down
beside the sergeant Dellarme. as his
vision cleared, had Just time to see
Stransky jerk his hand up to his tenn
ple' where there was red spot, be-
fore another shell burst, a little to
the rear. This was harmless. as a
shrapnel's shower of fragments and
bullets carry forward from the point
Of explosion. But the next burst In
front Of the line. The doctors period
OF idleness was over. One mans rife
shot up as his spine was broken BY a
Jagged piece Of shrapnel jacket, Now
there were too many shells to watch
them individually.
TITS all right-all right, men!S Del.
larme called again, assuming his
CHEEKY smile "It takes lot ~ IT,.