Evening public ledger. [volume] (Philadelphia [Pa.]) 1914-1942, 1917-06-26

ahead and investigate. and return in
minute or So"
Ie did not notice that the girl sank be-
meath the hedge with a suspicious alacrity.
He was a man, - fighter, with the hot
breath OF war In his nostrils Not yet had
he sensed the cruel strain which war places
on women Moreover. his faculties were
centered in the task OF the moment. The
soldier Is warned not TO take his eyes OF
the enemy while reloading his rihe lest the
target be lost similarly Dalroy knew that
concentration was the prime essential OF
scoutcraft.
He had dropped the sabots long since,
ga tho Iamp was lost in the spill out OF
the wagon but most fortunately ne had
matches in his pockets. He closed the door
softly, struck a match guarding the hame
with both hands, and looked around he
found himself I'm a ramshackle shed, half
barn half-stable. In stall was tethered
q black and white COW, her udder distended
with milk Huddled up against the wall
was the corpse OF n woman, an old peasant.
whose wizened features had that waNen
tint Of camaileu girls with which, In their
uiur,inated r,issals Of the middle ages the
monks loved to portray the eufferings of
the early Christian martyrs. She had
been stabbed twice through the breast. An
overturned pail and milking stool showed
how and where death had surprised her.
The match fickered out, and Dalroy was
left I'm the darkness OF the tomb. He had
a second match in his hand, and was on
the verge of striking II when he heard
mans voice and the swish of feet through
the grass Of the pasture without.
"I7his Is the place. Heinrich" came the
words In cultural German, and breathlessly.
Then. with certain founesses of expression.
the speaker added. I'm puffed. That girl
fought like a wild cat"
"Shes pretty, too for a Belgian" agreed
another voice
7 l,,'t a,Iti
screeching when you told her that a bayonet
had stopped her grandam's nagglng tongue"
"Ach was! What matter, at eghty?"
Dalroy had pulled the door open. Stoop.
ing he sought for and found the milking
stool a solid article Of sound oak. Through
a chink he saw two dark forms; glnts of
the dawn on fixed bayOnets showed that the
men were carrying their rifles slung At
the door the foremost switched on an cleo
trio torch.
You milk Heinrich" he said, while I
show a gllm"
He advanced a pace. as Dalroy expected
he would, so the swing of the stool caught
him on the right side of the head partly
on the ear and partly on the rim of his
Pickel-haube But his skull was fractured
| for all that. Heinrich Jared no better,
| though tho torch was shattered on the rough
paving of the stable A thrust hoored him,
and he fell with fearsome clatter of ac-
| couterments. A second blow on the temple
stlled the startled oath on his lips. Dalroy
| divested him Of the rife, and stuffed
| few clips of cartridges into his own pockets.
Then, ready for any others of a cut
| throat crew, he listened One of the pair
| on the ground was gasping for breath
| The COW began lowing again That was
| ALL There was neither sight nor sound Of
| Irene though she must have heard enough
| to frighten her badly
Miss Beresford :" he said, in a sibilant
hiss which would carry easily TO the point
| where he had left her. No answer. Nature
was still, 1t was as though inanimate
| things were awake. but quaking. The
| breathing Of the unnamed German changed
| abruptly into a guTgling croak. Heinrich
| had traversed that stage swiftly under the
| second blow. From the roads came the
| sharp rattle of horses feet the painting of
motors. The thud OF gun-fre smote the
| air necessarily. 1t suggested the monstrous
| pulse beat Of an alarmed world. over a
| hilltop the beam OF a searohlight lowered
| for an instant and vanished. Belgium, lit
| tie Belgium, was in a death grapple with
| mighty Germany. Even in her agony she
| was crying, What Of England? VIII Eng
| land help?" Well, one Englishman had les
sened by two the swarm of her enemies
| that night
He found Irene at once. She had simply
| tainted, and the man who now lifted her
| limp form tenderly in his arms was vexed
| at his own forgetfulness. The girl had slept
| irregular and scanty. She had lived in a
| constant and increasing strain, while the
| real danger and great physical exertion Of
| the last few minutes had provided a climax
| beyond her powers
A girl like Irene Beresford swept into
| the sirocco Of war from the ordered and
| sheltered life Of young Englishwoman OF
| the middle classes was an altogether differ
| ent case. He believed her one of the small
| army OF British-born women who find inde-
| nd nd fnt tT Arnf ftpN fAr HI,o4u
| services by acting as governesses and ladies'
companions on the Continent.
These considerations did not crowd in on
| Dalroy while he was holding her in close
| embrace in field near Wise at dawn on the
| morning of Wednesday, August 5. They
were the outcome Of nebulous ideas formed
| in the train. At present his one thought
was the welfare Of hapless woman of his
own race, be she a peers daughter or a
| postman's.
Now, skilled leader of men though he was
| he had little knowledge of the orthodox
| remedies for faintng woman Like most
| people, he was aware that a looSening or
bodices and corsets a chatting of hands a
| vigorous massage of the feet and ankles
| tended to restore circulation, and therefore
| consciousness. But none of these simple
methods was practicable when a party or
! German soldiers might be hunting for both
| of them, while another batch might be
| minded TO fOuow Heinrich" and his fellow
| butcher. So he carried her to the stable ana
| laid her on truss of straw noted during
that first vivid glimpse of the interior
Then, greatly daring, he MIXED the COW.
| Not only did the poor creatures suffering
make an irresistible appeal, but in relieving
| her distress he was providing the best OF
| nourishment for Irene and himself. The
| COW gave no trouble. Soon the milk was
| flowing steadily into the pail The dark
ness was abysmal on one hand lay a dead
/ VtvpF, he thnr
| and two dead men guarded the doorway
| once in Paris, Dalroy had seen one of the