Brownsville herald. [volume] (Brownsville, Tex.) 1910-current, 1929-02-07
HALTINC THE
FIRING SQUAD
Story of Great War
In Which Fate Deal
Winning Hand
BY DEWITT MACKENZIE
Copyright. 1929, Associated Pressl

BY W MACkENZlE
Copyright. 1929, Associated Pressl
II was midnight and the residents
OF this little French town in the back
area OF the British war zone had
long been snug in their four-posters.
There we're plenty Of English soldiers
in the place, of course, but the fight
ing was way off TO the west. and
there really wasn't much TO disturb
the rural calm
To be sure. there was the meth
odieal "',:lack, claek" o. sentries' boots
to be heard in various parts Of the
hamlet. But the people had become
accustomed to this, just as they had
- the tick. took" Of the big clocks
in their own kitchens As a matter
OF fact, they rather liked that per
sistent "clack, elaek." IL was sooth-
ing when n got used to it, and
spelled security.
So the village slept. Even the
soldiers, barring the few sentries on
duty, were rolled in their blankets
and dreaming Of the hollyhocks in
their gardens back home. Head
quarters itself had Joined the seek
ers after rest.
Only Sentry Smith at headquar-
tiers knew thas all "a not as quiet
Z. it seemed. and hat there was at
least one burner Of midnight oil
AZ he swung back and forth, the
sentry could see a tiny CLEAN OF yell
low light through the heavily cur
{ ined window of the colonel's Of
flee.
The "Old Man. apparently was
still at work. and the sentry won
AnwaI N~Lat IL x.Fw al wkn N-wA~
this military unit was to be moved.
Had Sentry Smith ben able TO see
within the ~colonel's room, ne would
have found that the Old Man was
keeping a sentry heat of his own. In
tie dim light the grey haired COM
mander was pacing back and forth,
hands ciasped behind him and chin
on chest.
The colonel was troubled. No
nothing TO DO with the progress Of
the fighting up in the lines. Just
n of those minor problems which
sometimes are more difficult than
the big ones
shot at dawn. One of the lads the
70 time the Old Man glanced ner-
NO4EAt NOn4Iuc az MA1AltA NEANkt az
clock was racing to meet sunrise.
Dash that clock; why did it 90 50
faSti Just a few fleeing hours and
then-dawn. n firing squad; a pale
faced I / with eyes looking appeal
ingly towards his comrades; a quick
command; a crash Of rifle fire-oh,
God, why must such things be!
The colonel brushed n bit of mois-
s.r -wa-lww FwnHn He aw~ru un1
turned his back on the clock. He
felt like a murderer. for he himself
had concurred in the sentence of
boys, and he loved them all. Why.
he had .hared their private joys and
sorrows fer years; been a father to
them.
OF course. there was the stain on
the honor Of the old regiment. That
hurt badly enough. But in main the
colonel was thinking Of Tommy. He
had liked Atkins from thu first. The
boy had a CHEEKY, winning smile. And
he was q good lad, IN the whole.
Perhaps he was = ID bit lax about
morals occasionally. but morals and
war u nothing in common You
can't ask a soldier TO .bayonet a fell
low being, and then condemn your
man for kissing a pretty face. Tom
my may have been a little thought
less at times, but he never had been
really bad-up TO this point.
Now, Tommy had been convicted
Of one OF the objectionable sins. He
had been condemned on charges pre-
ferred by one of the village girls.
II had been her word against his,
with no eye witnesses. And they al
ways give a girl the benefit Of the
doubt. Besides. Tommy had been
compelled in honesty % admit that
he lad been in the girls company.
Thers was only one possible verdict.
The colonel had seer this girl
about town. She was a rather flashy
type. he didl't trust her, and he did
trust Tommy Atkins. The Old Man
felt in his heart th~' the girl had
lied. probably for spite. But there
was no proof. And the clock was
raci. & to meet the dawn.
There was a tap at the door. The
colonel threw it open and there,
blinkin- IN the unaccustomed N-ht.
stood Fatf.-r Bon, the village prie-t.
The colonel knew him well. Indeed.
every slider in the place had a
speaking acquaintance with the bene-
violent old gentleman in the black
robe, and the funny flat hat which
some way achieved dignity through
the name of white hair that fell 10
his oul6crs.
"Come in. father" welcomed the
colonel. -You are abroad late to-
night. What can / do for you?"
For a moment the priest said
=. thing. but stod clenching and un-
clcnrhinr his hands in obvious ment-
al anguish. Then, with sudden re-
solution:
"It's about Tommy Atkins. colo
mel. All this night | have prayed on
my knees for guidance, and ] have
got I'm. | have come TO tell you
something. II Is hard, for ! am vio-
latin. the privacy of the confession
al to a tiny degree. Never before
have | done this. But il Is my duty
now. I have heard this girls con-
fessions many times. and by putting
two and two together | can see the
truth about Tommy Atkins The lad
cannot possibly be guilty"
The priest turned toward the door,
but the colonel held him for a mo-
ment with a hand clasp and d God
bless you. father"
TIE colonel was alone again. Out
side. Sentry Smiths heels recorded
their methocical "clack, clack."
Within. the small clock raced 10 meet
the sunrise. The Old Man CROSSED
the room and with a whimsical smile