The Monmouth inquirer., 1924-03-06
THE LOVING ARM.

Against his will, Col, Sale was play
ing one more hand. He played at all
times very quietly, SO far as card
table manner is concerned. and to-
night he was sometimes mildly hum
oraas.
The game being ended, he pushed
the cards away with a smile. His
luck had been worse than common,
he was a pleasant officer, and every
body knew him to be "hipped"
He wrote in his neat hand upon
the back Of visiting cards an 81 0 W
for zach member Of tie, party. while
they were pasias cash Or ese c,ss, slis
refined and tranquil face was flushed
a little; the act brought home to him
a very disagreeable sense of his posi-
ton.
Col. Arthur Sale was man Of no
excuses but this Of gambling; mid
dIe-aged, a good soldier, with some
reputation as a traveller and q sports.
man. While yet lieutenant, he had
made two Independent journeys in the
Soudan about the time of the first
Mahdi's rise to power.
Not the most imaginative among
his friends could suspect what he had
1t in mind to do. He was going to
Yorkshire "for a months fishing"
But. for some time now, the position
must have seemed to Col. Sale to have
a hopeless look He had lost hard
upon $4,000 in a few months; his
means We're narrow; and, after calling
in all but assurances, he was in debt
still.
To give up honor and life was doub
Iy futile. But what had determined
him was. the necessity of saving some
thing for his wife and boys. He said
goodby to them in the morning. Grant
ed his point of view, there must have
been something beautifully tender and
brave In the light farewell; and yet
one does not care to think Of 1t.
With only a few days to live. and
with the sense of mastery which every
calm resolution gives, Col. Sale was
more than usually clear-headed, al
though his heart labored, and scenes
from the old past ran mostly in his
thoughts.
In particular, he was struck by rec
elections of a college friendship and
of q boys conversation which pointed
to his present case. 1t was the most
intimate and lasting friendship he had
known. and he would have liked to
say goodby to Jack Alleyn; what in
these last few years had become OF
him? When they were mere boys,
Jack once boosted lightly that he
would undertake.
All, happy time! In fash the
scene returned 1t was in the great
holidays. on night of sentiment and
philosophy, things they did not know
by any such names and talked never
theless on all occasions
There was O. badger. While 1t was
out they had stopped the earths, and
they lay among bracken and rocks
on the edge of Yorkshire moor wait
ing for it. The moonlit dale was ro-
mantle, but not Jack; and they were
talking ghosts.
Jack provoked him to say-he re-
called quite freshly the mood in which
he spoke, bantering, but still with a
delightful, creepy sense of commit
ting himself to something risky
"All right, old chap; but If ever I get
into Queer ST. inocent word In those
days,-"and have to shuttle off this
mortal coil, I'll let you see. I'll be
an apparition myself, and make a
friendly call in search Of sympathy.
Go away says you; you're an i'm
position. Besides, I never feel for
spectres.
"Rot! can go one better. sonnie.
I'll undertake to make my call on you
before you do the shuttle"
The notion held him. If such things
were. he would keep his engagement
with Jack.
Mr.. Jack Alleyn is well known In
Liverpool, though not by the name
have given him. He was to have been
a soldier with his friend; he became
a cotton merchant AS for this friend
shin it had endured, of course,
through long separations, with meet
ings rather more infrequent since the
sn;d-nineties than before. Jack had
not seen his old chUn at all since the
war in South Africa.
But he had longed to do so, and to
him as we'll as to the fighting-man
that threat of friendly call" had re-
Cured. though not his own testing
answer. 1t had even required more
than once, when scanty news made
him fearful; but he would have been
immensely surprised to see it fulfilled
at any time.
In the house where Col. Sale was
guest, he enjoyed the perfect liberty
of an old and dear comrade. 1t was
not until the fourth day that he could
think of his purpose resolutely. The
Wharfe was in spate then, after rain
among the hills, and he went out to
fish with worm below those woods In
which the Strid is situated. His host
being no fisherman, Col. Sale took
with him, by an arrangement made
overnight, an old waterbaliff Of whom
he was fond.
They reached the Strid about the