The West Virginian. [volume] (Fairmont, W. Va.) 1914-1974, 1919-07-23
THE DAILY
SHORT STORY
What the Major Knew.
BY DORA MolIAN
ny IOhH mOLLAS,
Copyright, 1919, by the Mcclure
Newspaper syndicate.)

r, OR five months prior TO his return
with twelve hundred comrades
from the Great Adventure Floyd
Hobart had not received SO much as
one letter from Beth. Yet as he sat
inethe train that was speeding him to
the home town on a seventy-two. hour
leave the second day after the dock
ing of his ship, his heart was high ano
no carpIng finger OF doubt plucked at
his heart strings,
For Floyd was not the only soldier,
by many hundreds. who had gotten nc
mail from homo for weeks and months
upon end though many were the low.
ing messages that had been sent them.
And he knew the especial liability to
loss Of their mail that fell to the lot
OF men whose experiences were like
his.
Hobart had been one of those sol.
diers who mthe fates seem to con
spire to keep away from their own
commands Within week OF debarka-
ton In France he had been detached
from his company and sent to regI-
, mental headquarters. whence had
come loud cry for help from expert
accountants among the enlisted men
to straighten out the tangled paper
work" of the organization. Thence he
had been chased back to the port OF
debarkatlon on n hunt for some unac
counted-for military property.
Next came a transfer to brigade
headquarters and an expert clerical
job under which he chafed.
Then, all Unexpectedly, the big
push" and for a month Floyd almost
slept on motorcycle as dispatch
bearer, teasing over the roads of
France and encountering every organi-
zation in his division but his own bat.
talon. which had been meantime de-
tached to serve with the French.
Twice for fevered hour he had got
ten into the red flood of battle, each
j time with different and stranger unit,
and gone through the carnage I'M
scathed. Then. back on the motorcycle,
returning to division headquarters aft
er delivering highly important mes
sage to the commander of battalion
Just "going in." the end of the world,
seemingly, had come out of the sky
whore Hun bomber had evaded the
vigilance OF the American scouts-and
Floyd had found consciousness on a
train headed for base hospital.
There he had remained for seven
weeks while the two broken and man
gled arms were restored TO usefulness.
After that period in convalescent
hospital and one day an order to report
again to division headquarters.
And all this time. and the rest of the
time over IT, ere, without one word from
home. not sign from BetA-but who
could wonder? Wars must be fought
as best they may and soldiers must be-
here or there as the eXigencies of the
service demand, whether one hears
from the loved ones or not.
And Floyd Hobart was a soldier to
the marrow of his bones. Too brave a
soldier and too true man to doubt
the constancy of the girl who had
promised to be his wife just because
her letters had gone astray.
So there was no shadow, no Fremont.
ton OF evil, no cloud upon the strong
mans faith. as the hurrying train car
ried him nearer and nearer to home
and to the happiness he had yearned
for all this frenzled year.
Floyd had wired Beth Hardwick that
he would arrive in the home town BY
the train on which he was travelling.
There were many people on the sta
ton platform as the soldier, first pas.
senger to alIght, swung from the car
step, but his keen eyes found Beth's
erect and well-clad figure instantly.
Then it was that the first warning
came.
The girl had not yet seen him. and
las she scanned the trickle of detrain-
ing passengers Floyd could see none
of that eager anticipation, none of that