The Elbert County tribune., 1915-02-12


and held before Dave new twenty
dollar gold-piece father had given me
that morning. 1t bought his Grafton"
Wentworth paused as If in an en-
barrassment Of shame. Merry watched
him In silence.
Il feel-even now-the reluctant
grip with which Dave held on 10 those
sheets of blurred foolscap. l never
gave a thought to what / had done
Every moment for twenty-four hours
was needed to commit Dawes speech
to memory. My father. proud and hap
py. gave me another twenty-dollar
gold-piece. carried 1t to Dave. He
refused 1t, turning his back on me
with angry scorD. Twenty years later
met him again. He had gone to
congress and was blasting his way
upwards toward fame. was assigned
to Interview him. He remembered me
Instantly. For a moment he stared at
me from head to foot, then he turned
away without word and never
touched the hand i offered him. My
God how that hurt!" A shiver went
through the mans body.
That happened twenty-five years
ago said Merry hesitatingly. You
can't lay up a boyhood sin against
man. He changes-he's almost an
other human being"
mo. he isn't" answered Wentworth
doggedly. Il want to show you that
the psychological fellow was in the
right. That was my first fall from
grace; but there was a second lesion.
1t was worse, worse even than--than
what l did to you, Merry. ! was out
in the Balkan mountains where the
blamed barbarian Turks go tearing at
each others throats once in so often.
The world looked on, waiting for a
story of war. / had none to tell, moth
ing happened but a skirmish or two
once In while. There was nothing
man could make into a story. 1t
was wretcsed campaign. Young
Forsyth, of the Tribune, and ! hung
together through 1t for months, living
like stray dogs. sick to death of our
Job. and ready to throw 1t up at any
moment. One morning at daybreak
we were awakened by shooting. We
scrambled from the cave where we
had slept and looked down into the
valley. We were in the very heart of
battle. and these savages we're climb
ing over the rocks with their curlasses
flashing. They shrieked like maniacs.
the bullets went flying about our
heads. i crept back to the hole among
the rocks where we had spent the
night. l couldn't see what was hap
pening; l didn't want to see. Death
shrieks echoed all around and above
me. 1t was the most hellish din of
battle ever listened to. had turned
coward. lay there with every tooth
in my head chattering. A nice con-
fession for man to make, eh?" asked
Wentworth with a grim smile.
Merry half rose then dropped back
into his chair. Hold on. Enoch,
swear you're not fit for this sort of
thing. Your temperature will 20 up,
then the nurse"
Damn the nurse. I'm fit enough;
keep still. l want to finish my story
Forsyth. the intrepid young fool. went
creeping along the face of the cliff.
He had never seen battle before.
called to him to lie low. but he never
needed me. Through a crevice in the
rock ! saw him stretch his head over
the chasm and crane his neck. then
plunge down and begin to write as If
he were mad. Once / sneaked out
and tried to drag him in beside me.
He fought like wildcat. so i went
back to shelter. The bullets pinged on
the rocks all around me. Suddenly
heard low, gurgling, awful cry and
somebody called my name in a hoarse
shout. 1t was Forsyth. ! crept out
He stood on a cliff above me, clutch
ing at his throat, then he toppled and
fell. He came plunging down over the
rocks until he reached my feet He
was dead, stark dead, when | pulled
him into the cave. His notebook was
clutched so tight in his hand that
tore corner from one page as l took
there.
After little while the battle fz-
zled down to stray shot or two. That
night under the CLEAN of a sputtering
little torch l read Forsyth's. story. 1t
was emendous-perfectly tremen-
dous-perfectly tremendous! 1t read
like inspired stuff. l had never
dreamed the fellow had such a vocab-
ulary. And he lay there close beside
me. asleep-under the damp, warm.
soft earth. l had fit of the horrors.
put out my light. stuffed the pages
of writing in my pocket. then went
doubling and twisting down those wild
mountains, lodging the enemy's camp
fires and their internal bullets. until
reached the miserable little town in
the valley we two men had our
headquarters. l hurried to the tele-
graph office to send out Forsyth's story
to the Tribune. with the news of his
death. / was waiting to get the wire
when somebody handed me cable