Bridgeton pioneer., 1917-09-13
A Pursuing
Shadow
By ELLIOTT FOSTER

lor. l do not think there are any Mex.
leans in the region between our two
separate forces, but there may be. You
can either take an escort or scout your
way alone"
Captain Allen Duane paled. His gen.
eral looked at his aid-de-camp curious
ly, wonderingly for he knew him to be
brave man, then asked, (Which
course will you adopt?"
II shall scout through alone"
AS If the captain had chased away a
disasreeable suspicion as to his cour-
age, the general turned complacently to
other matters.
What was it that caused the color
momentarily to leave the cheek of the
young officer at being ordered upon an
ordinary duty? He did not know him
self. He knew only that some vague
message had come to him to tell him
that this would be to him night Of
what? He did not know. More in fear
of cowardice than danger, he shook off
| the disagreeable impression, which
| melted before his resolution. like mist
before the sun.
Riding to the outposts, he left his
horse and moved away into the debata-
bic land held by neither American nor
Mexican. A young moon shone down
on his shoulder, casting faint shadow
to his left and to his rear. 1t annoyed
him. Turning to glance at it, he could
not refrain from fancy that figure
was following him. Looking straight
| ahead, he fixed his gaze on the plain,
over which here and there grew scat
tered clumps of tropical trees.
1t was lonely out there on that DESC
late plain where the poorest Mexican
| disdained to build even an adobe hut.
The vipers with which the codntry
abounds had crawled into their holes
Despite his efforts to drive away the
| impression that his shadow was some
| one following him, this impression grew
| stronger. Turning again. he cast a
| quick glance behind. There was the
| shadow as before. Raising his eyes to
| the sky, he shuddered. The moon was
| behind a cloud.
1t was now clear to Captain Duane
| that the mysterious follower was not
| his shadow. What was it? If hu-
| man enemy, it would have long before
this shot or knitted him in the back.
| If friend, why did it not declare it.
| self? And why did he not hear its
tread? He listened, but by the closest
attention he could not detect a foot
step. And why, he asked himself, did
he, soldier who had been twice bre-
vetted for bravery, shrink from turning
and confronting this mystical intensity
| of shade? 1t was the silence, a dread
OF something more than the dangers he
had faced during the din of battle, that
kept his eyes fixed to the front
| BY an effort he gathered strength to
| turn his head for one more glance.
| There was the figure, more distinct
than before, yet not continuously so.
| 1t seemed to Captain Duane that his
eyesight was not capable Of holding the
| image long enough to see exactly what
it was Now, for an instant, the head
| and shoulders would keep their form
| the face bony, with deep sunken eyes
| broad, prominent mouth. Then the
legs, long thin ones, would be tramping
1
gait, the whole covered by long flow
ing mantle which fluttered in the wind.
| yet there was no wind.
| Desperate. the officer halted and fac
ed about.
"Who comes there?" he cried.
| The words broke the stiffness like
clap of thunder from a serene sky.
There was in them singular distress,
as if they had been for ages asking a
| question TO which there had come no
| reply. The figure stopped when the
| speaker stopped, standing, waiting, as
though neither impatient nor tired, con-
| fident that the object of its attention
would move on and it would again fol
low.
The young captain did move on.
| Though his physical strength was un-
! impaired, it seemed to him that his
soul was tagging; that it was slowly
| but surely slipping away from him.
| He was as ready to meet an accustom-
ed enemy and fight as bravely as ever.
| AS Captain Allen Duane he was still
independent; as human soul he was
losing himself.
And now there in the distance is
I something white. He shades his eyes
| from every ray of moonlight and dis
| covers white tents. He is nearing the
| end of his mission. A few more miles
and he will be within the picket line
of friendly army. VIII this shadowy
tramper remain behind?
Captain Duane pushed on. The in
equalities of the road We're no obsta-
cles. He took no thought of running
upon some rowing band of Mexicans.
The mysterious figure was closing upon
him. AT last it came so close that he
could almost feel it's breath. like the
moldy chill from tomb.
"Who comes there?' called the
picket.
Why did not Captain Duane reply.
Friend with the countersign?" Was