Evening star., 1915-01-21

puzzled out the meaning. An old door
was swinging on rusty hinge.
my word" said he. II was glad to
hear that thought maybe could get
So he began a hunt for that creaking
door, stepping cautiously. one foot at a
time, through the darkness. his hands
stretched out in front At last he found
some sort He felt all around the four
stone walls. There was no other open
ing. The door swung in. and he step
ped inside and closed the door behind
him. He put his back against it. Then
he listened for the sound Of breathing:
Them Germans are artful, said he
II held my breath and waited, but
couldn't hear q sound"
In an inner pocket, protected from the
water that had soaked his clothing by q
bit Of rubber sheeting. he had page Or
two Of the London Times. He had plan
ned to read 1t at the first chance. With
It he had box Of matches-a miracle
at the front, where the wasting OF
match is held a sin. When he stepped
away from the door 1t began again to
hinge complained. He feared 1t might
attract some prowling enemy. So he put
his back against the door and sacrificed
his bit of newspaper to make a fare. He
knew there were no windows through
which it might be seen.
Pile Of Hay in Corner.
"It was little bit of all right, that
ut" said he. THE roof was tight. and
over in one corner there was a pile Of
hay. 'Ooever owned it had KEEP COW.
for there was milking stool upset there
by the hay. / could sleep there dry and
warm.
He held the f1aring paper over his
head as he braced against the door
Then he saw that he had company.
Ranged about the walls were three
dead men. One had pillowed his head
upon the armful of hay. Some one had
covered his body with an overcoat- He
seemed as though asleep. until the
dropped jaw and the white eyeballs
cleaning in the light Of the flare told
their story to the living man.
against the vail" said wilson. Zone
of 'em I didn't like to look at. He was
hurted bad. Blood had run from his
middle until I could see it. blacklike
and shiny, on the stone floor"
against the wall. He was hardly moro
than boy, Wilson said-"but husky
lad; he must ave weighed all of twelve
or thirteen stone"-and somehow a
as he died. No wound was visible. 1t
was as though he had gone to sleep
and was dreaming of home. The flare
began to singe Wilson's fingers, and he
dropped it and stamped out the sparks.
Then he stood in the darkness. consid-
ering.
II knew 'ad to prop that door shut
somehow" said he, II didn't want 1t to
screek. Some one might hear 1t. Any
how, the wind beat the rain in through
IT,"
Corpse Holds Door Shut.
He felt his way to the side of the
dead man on the pile of hay and picked
up the milking stool and tried to brace
the door shut with it. For a moment it
held, and then the wind-driven door
thrust it aside. Then an inspiration
came to him. He went to that young
dead man who was sitting SO quietly
against the wall, smiling to himself in
the darkness.
"'E was stiff" Wilson said. Like q
log he was, or a chair. So I says to
him like-only didn't say 1t out loud
Give US hand here. mate, and 'old
the door to-"
He dragged the cold man across the
floor and propped him with his back
against the swinging door. The weight
held 1t firm. and the annoying screek-
ing was stilled. One can imagine the
dead man smiling gently through the
darkness. Then Wilson turned the
other dead man off the armful of hay