The Oklahoma miner. [volume] (Krebs, Okla.) 1912-192?, 1919-02-20

linen he TeullZeu INIT ne WIS out Ol
the fight. Yet, in spite of his intense
disappointment, he knew that worse
might have befallen him. He had
fought through hours Of the day-that
was much he was probably spared to
lead his men again-and that was
more. He had found and proved
himself; and at twenty-One a young
man, for all his self-confidence, is COM
posed of fears and doubts as we'll In
spite of his soldier ancestors, Mark
Wallace had not been sure that his
capacity for leadership extended be-
yond the parade ground, and he had
suffered from the young soldiers in
evitable fear of fear.
SO he resigned himself TO his situa-
tion. He emptled his water bottle and,
gripping the end of his gauze roll with
his teeth, managed to bandage his
wound sufficiently to stop the bleed
ing. The languOr, however, was in
creaslng. Sometimes he would doze
for a few moments, awaking with a
start, to wonder where he was, and
what had happened. The air was very
still. The shouts had long since died
away, the rifle firing was a distant
cracking; the tremulous stacCato tap
ping of the machine guns was like the
roll of drums far away.
Wallace must have slept for q pro-
longed period, for when next he be-
/ came conscious he started up to see,
to his intense nstonishmeut, a pretty
littla OF OP throa or Porr voorS Stopd
Ing In front of him and looking at him.
He rubbed his eyes, expecting her to
disappear. But she was still there, and
just as he was beginning to piece to-
gether a Spanish phrase she spoke to
him In English.
II want my daddy"
Wallace reached out and drew the
child toward him. "Where Is your
daddy?" he asked. "And who are
your"
I'm Eleanor" she answered, land
won't you please find my daddy for
me2"
She pointed with grimy little hand
toward the Interior Of the shack, and
Wallace, struggling to his feet with
great effort, made his way inside.
1t was almost dark In the hut, and
Wallace could only make out with diff
f1culty the form of man who lay, face
downward, upon the ground near the
wall. Presently, however as his eyes
became more accustomed to the OBJ
scurity, he saw the bullet wound in
the back of the head.
Ia lpnlyaH IN n tha child Vryhn stood
by, unconcerned. go away, Eleanor"
he said gently.
The child, too young to know any
thing of death, went out Of the hut
and began to play In the shaft Of sun
light that filtered through the branches
of the palms. Wallace searched the
dead mans pockets. He found moth
Ing, however, except a military pass,
signed by General Llnares Of the
Spanish forces, authorizing the bearer
to pass through the lines; and, after
q moments reflection, he decided to
leave 1t on the body.
So this man had been the child's ia
ther, and, apart from her speech, his
| cOlOring showed that he had been an
American. Wallace concluded that he
had been q planter, trapped in Santi-
ago. He raised the body In his arms
! and tried to turn 1t over, but let 1t
fall when he saw the work that the
| bullet had made of the face. He must
not let the little girl carry away any
thing of such mem1ry as thatl
He groped his way outside and
beckoned to her. What is your other
rame, Eleanor2" he asked.
The little girl only looked at him
II was evidcut that she did not under
stand the meaning of his question.
'Did your daddy live In SantiagoT
'My daddy has gone away. 1 want
him." said the child, beginning to
whimper.
Wallace tried her once more
where is your mamma2" he asked.
But she said nothing. and he sal
down. propping himself against the
shack. He drew the little girl down
beside him.
"Now listen to me, Eleanor" he
said. "Your daddy has gone away
He will be gone for long time. You
must be good and patient, and sOOr
somebody will come to take care Of
you. Do you understandT
The child's lip quivered, but she die
not cry. She fixed her large gray eyes
upon him.
"Who are your" she asked, with the
directness OF childhood.
"AIy name is Mark"