The Washington times., 1933-12-09
Story Of Romance, War, Intrigue

then, the awful shadow dance
at sunset.
Under her ragged shirt,
strapped to her naked body,
she carried her long, sharp
knife in it's velvet sheath. She
carried also, in the holster of
yellow Bob's saddle a heavy
dragon revolver, capped and
loaded. She had had little to
eat for a long time. and her
slim stomach seemed to slap
against her spine at every
stride of her horse and jerk of
the led horses halterS.
Gail LoveleSs. in all her dra-
matte career as a member Of
Pauline CuShmanS celebrated
theatrical company, never had
played so exciting a role in
any theater as she was playing
now. and never had she ex-
perienced such thrilling and
strangely alternating shocks
of fear and delight as this
headlong' gallop was giving her.
To deceive and flout that pre-
posterous yellow niger, Bob!
To fool an entire division of
Confederate cavalry and vanish
with the Generals two favorite
horses! To warn Little Mac
and start a hundred thousand
men in motion! AS she rode,
these delicious and triumphant
thoughts streamed through her
mind, while the warm, wet
wind rushed past her ears
intoxicating her.
No Thrill There
And there was Capt. Jack
Gailliard, too! with his hand
some face all bandaged where
she had struck him. Was he
also a subject for thrilling fear
and mirth? AS she galloped,
her flushed cheeks aglow, she
thought of her desperate, swing
ing blow, and of the heavy re-
volver butt smashing down into
his boyish face. No, that was
neither funny nor thrilling. Had
it been necessary she would have
killed this young man-So close
had she beheld death grinning
at her in the starlight.
Galloping onward now, but
with no glow of victory in her
pale, brown cheeks, she began
to remember, also, that this
same young man had seen her
hiding from the hangman, and
had let her go. Because he
must have seen her: she was
sure he had by the expression
in his eyes. And yet he had let
her go.
Why?
Was it sheer pity, knowing
what her fate must have been?
Spies do not pity each other
to that extent. Yet he had
said no word Of his discovery
to the chief of spies as the
lantern flashed along the hay
loft flooring.
Why?
The color came back into her
pallid, brown-dyed face.
Well, then, all the worse for
this young man-if he could
not command his baser pas
sions. If he must succumb,
first to his lust for a poor girl,
whom he believed to be a
quadroon; and then surrender
to his passion for a Yankee
spy, who had attempted to de-
stroy the flower of his coun-
try's cavalry.
Her heart had begun to beat
as fast as the thudding of her
horses feet.
A miserable young man, to
let that kind of passion or
lose, or whatever he dared call
it, interfere with his oath of
duty to his Confederate gov.
ernment! She despised him.
She was not grateful. Let this
man beware of her if ever
again he interfered!
Sweet Shame
Then the swift memory of the
Boyd garden, of their embrace
his lips on hers-Shocked her
and left her anguished with it's
burning sweetness. BreathleSs
moment, then rigid under a we'll
ing rush of anger. Never before
had a man aroused such wan
ton, such indescribable emotion
in her virgin mind and body.
Never had she imagined herself
capable of such shameful re-
psonse to a mans predatory