The Monticellonian. [volume] (Monticello, Ark.) 1870-1920, 1915-02-04
CHAPTER xIl-ContInued.

But she hurried on, impelled by she
knew not what, through the dining
room, and, coming to the veranda,
stopped short. with dilating eyes and
cry of grievous shock Two of his
men were carving Dellarme back
from the breastwork, where they had
caught him In their arms as Re fell.
They laid him gently on the sward
with a knapsack under his head. His
face grew whittier with the flow Of
blood from the red hole in the right
breast of his blouse. Then he opened
his lips and whispered to the doctor:
How is it?" Something in his eyes,
in the tone of that faint question, re-
quired the grace OF a soldiers truth
In answer.
Bad" said the doctor.
Then, good-by." And his head fell
SMILE
His company was company with
his smile out OF its heart and In it's
place blank despair. Many of the men
had stopped firing Some had even
run back to look at him and stood,
caps off, backs to the enemy, miser-
able in their grief Others leaned
against the parapet, rifles out of hand,
staring and dazed
They have killed our captain!-
They've killed our eaptaini"-still
a captain to them. A generals stars
could mot baua roiea5 hin. L.,
their estimation.
And once we called him Baby Del
larme,' he was so young and bashfuli
Him baby? He was a kingi"
Men, get to your plaeesl" cried the
surviving lieutenant rather hopelessly
with no Dellarme to show him what
to do; and Marta saw that few paid
any attention to him.
In that minute of decentralization the
Grays had their chance. but only for a
minute. A voice that seemed to speak
some uncomfortable thought of her
own broke in, and it rang with the au
thority and leadership of mature of
fieer's command, even though coming
from gardener in blue blouse and
crownless straw hat.
Your rifles, your rifles, quick!'
called Teller. Were only beginning
to fght!"
And then another voice in bull
roar, Stransky's:
"Ayenge his death! They've got tc
kill the last man of us for killing him
Revenge! Revengei"
That cry brought back to the com
pany all the fighting spirit of the
CHEEKY smile and with II another spirit
for Dellarme's sakel-which he hae
never taught them.
Straneky picked up one of severa
cylindrical objects that were lying al
his feet.
He wouldn't use this-he was toe
soft-hearted-but l will" he cried. ant
flung hand-grenade, and then a sec
ond, over the breastwork The explo
sions were followed by agonizee
groans from the Grays hugging tn,
lower side OF the terrace. For thi,
they had crawled across the road il
the night-to find themselves unabl,
TO move either way and directly unde
the hashes Of the Browns rifles.
Fellers and Stranskys shouts ros,
together in peculiar unity of direc
ton and fun of the fellowship the,
had found In their first exchange O
glances.
you engineers, make ready"
''Handgrenades TO the men unde
the tree! That's where they're goinj
to try for it-no wall to climb owe
there"
You engineers. take your rifles
and bayonet into anything that wear
gray!'
Get back, you men by the tree, t
avoid their hand-grenadesl Form u
behind them, everybody
no matter If they do get in at first
Back, you men, from under the tree!
There was not single rifie-shot. l
q silence like that before the word t
fire in duel, all orders were hear
and the more readily obeyed becaus
Dellarme's foresight had impresse
their sense upon the men in his quie
way
The sand-bags by the tree wer
blown up by the Grays. Then, befor
the dust had hardly settled, came
half score of and-grenades thrown b
the first men of Gray wedge scran
bling as they were pushed throug
the breach by the pressure of th
mass behind. In that final struggl
OF one set of men to gain and anothe
to hold a position. guns or automatic
or long-range bullets played no par
II was the grapple of cold steel wit
cold steel and muscle with muscle,
the billowing. twisting mob of wre