Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1929-09-29

T 7 ARSH, bloodstained faces peered
down at the figure of Eleanor,
over whom Morse and I were
Il Il bending.
She's alive" I remember
muttering, again and again, in a dazed
way, not comprehending my own vast
relief when her first pulse-throb re-
vealed the truth.
Dimly also I remember helping to
carry her through the smoke-filled tun-
mel, and recall the strange brightness of
light as we emerged into the library
It was a condition, I believe, that the
others shared-a haggard group Of
scarecrows, all of us, as We stood in
the sunlight.
But the faintnesS passed. Eleanor,
having been temporarily cared for, and
other medical aid summoned, I gave
what help could to those who needed
RedSby and another had fractured
skulls, and there were various wounds
that required attention.
AS for Eleanor, she was apparently
suffering from extreme shock, and 1t
was impossible to tell at once what the
result might be. Her breathing had be-
come regular, which augured well, but
she had not regained consciousness, nor
indeed did she come to herself until
some hours later.
The need for these attentions was so
imperative that only when had fin
ished NorSe'S injury did I have time
definitely to look back upon what had
passed. Our glances met in that
speeches. understanding of two men
who have shared mutually and survived
a critical experience.
Its no question here" he said, "of
all's well that ends we'll. I'm glad
about Miss Graham, of course. But it's
a black day for me when I think OF
those poor fellows"
He looked down, and could see his
firm lips tremble. STILL" he added. lin
our trade one must be ready for that"
And what" asked, has become Of
Ballion?"
We had turned the library into a
first-aid ward, not SO inappropriate,
after all. to those old banners that
hung down over us, nor to the armor
ranged beneath them. Morse pointed to
the hall.
"He's there. You'd better have a
look. I imagine he needs anything you
can do
Il don't see why we should bother"
returned Amy death would be too
Morse gazed absently up at the torn
battle-fags. mo doubt But he's a
great spirit, none the less. He makes
the rest of US look small, with our petty
liabilities. No, it's not sentimentalism,
he added. I'll see that he hangs fast
enough"
In the hall we found group of men
about one of the chairs before the
hearth And thus came on the
prisoner, Carl Balloon.
His hands were manacled, but other
wise there was little of the prisoner i'm
piled either in his attitude or in that
Of his guards. A streak Of blood on his
forehead was the only immediate trace
he showed of the fight, and certainly,
among the rest of us, he seemed the
least concerned.
I say immediate trace" because, on
looking again, it became apparent that
one leg was soaked with blood. and.
from the ugly angle in which he held
it, was evidently broken. One OWNED,
although not by any token of express
sion, that he must be suffering extreme
pain. otherwise, increased pallor gave
an added refinement to the face that
reposed on the chair cushions like an
exquisitely carved mask.
But what was peculiarly impressive
to me was the manner in which his re-
cent opponents stood around him. AS
the unfiinching eyes turned upon one