The Washburn times. [volume] (Washburn, Wis.) 1896-1976, 1915-02-18

Hugging the cover Of the ridge Of
fresh earth which they had thrown up
the previous night, they watched the
white posts. Stransky. who had been
ruminatively silent all the morning.
was in his place, but he was not look
ing at the enemy. Cautiously, TO avoid
reprimand, he raised his head to en-
able him to glance along the line. All
the faces seemed drawn and clayish.
They don't want to fight, They're
just here because they're ordered here
and haven't the character to defy au-
thority," he thought. "The leaven is
working! My time is coming"
For Derlarme the minute had come
when all his training was to be put to
test. The figures on the other side of
the white posts were rising. He was to
prove by the way he directed a COM
pany OF infantry in action whether or
not he was worthy of his captains
rank. He smiled cheerily. In order
that he might watch how each man
used his rifle, he drew back of the line,
his slim body erect as he rested on
one knee, his head level with the
other heads while he fingered his
whistle The instant that Eugene
Aronson sprang over the white post
blast from the whistle began the
war.
1t was a signal, too, for Stransky
to play the part he had planned; to
En he Of h 81
feet of stature shot to it's feet with
Jack-in-the-box abruptness, under
the impulse Of a 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 we'u find that they
think as we do! I'll lead you!"
The appeal was drowned in the
cracking of the rifles working as regu-
larly as punching-machines in a fac
tory. Every soldier was seeing only
his sight and the running figures un-
der It, 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 hundred-yard dash to stop
running, to an oarsman in q 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 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
barbaric, 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.
mo-" 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 afraid? Me
| -afraid?"
His eyes in a bloodshot glare, az
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, smartins
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, can!
An example--the law! There's nc
other way of dealing with him! Give
the world" he said to Dellarme.
Stransky laughed. now In strident
cynicism. Dellarme still hesitated
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