The War Library: Phil, the Scout — page 8: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

8 — —_————_—- ———— ——_— ' allow myself to be insulted by you. I will listen no longer."' Oliver Oglethorpe threw himself in the phe way, asshe turned to leave the room. e was now white with rage. ‘‘You shall hear me! I willspeak further, and tell you that never so long as life is left me to move that right arm shall Phil La- monte wed yon. Curse him, he shall not stand in my way longer! Your handsome young lover will not look upon your face again. [swear it! : ‘‘ He is able to defend himself against such asyou Ifearnotfor him. I will tell you now that wereit a question with me _ be- tween you aud him an instant’s time would suffice to decide the matter. I would as soon think of ending my own life as wedding you! Thatis all I have to say, and you can make the most of 1t.”’ Springing aside, she ran like a startled fawn away from the monster. Trembling with anger at his utter discom- fiture, Oglethorpe hastened back toward the Confederate camp. His heart was full of wrath toward Phil Lamonte. Reaching his quarters a message was hand- ed him, It read : ‘Come at once. “Fontneroy! I wonder what he wants?" said Oglethorpe, when he had finished this brief message. ‘‘It may be he can help ine out of thisscrape with Molly Grame. If | remember rightly Fe has a soft spotin his heart toward that dark-eyed cousin, Laura Doane. The thing is worth trying, at least. If my plans work well, let Phil Lamonte look out for himself. He shall not stand in my way long. Either he wins or Ido; and who ever knew Oliver Oglethorpe to be de- feated? Yes, colonel, I'll come at once.”’ ‘he young man crumpled the piece of pa- per which the Confederate colonel had sent him into a hundred shapes, then tossed it to the ground. He did not see a pair of eyes gleaming out of a face which had grown hungry with watching that followed his every movement, and he was not uware that the owner of those eyes stole silently to the spot where he had been Besos ANG picked up the mes- sage from the colonel. ‘‘How are you to-day, colonel?’ asked Oglethorpe, entering Fontneroy’s room in the Lamoute mansion ten minutes later. ‘* Better, I hope."’ ‘““Yes, [am better, Oglethorpe. This thing will keep me here only a day or two. In fact I camenear getting up this morning, but the doctor thought 1 had better wait a little longer.”' ‘* Glad to hear it. We need you every min- ute. ButI suppose you are busy planning all the time, just the same. You sent for me, eolonel ?"' . The officer cast a hurried glance about the room at these words, and a strange expres- sion cume over his countenance. He fastened his eyes upon the window near the couch on which he lay for a moment. ‘Oglethorpe, would you mind dropping this shade? I am full of singular notions to-day. I fancied I sawsome one peering through the window upon us just now. Only a whim, of course, but I want no watchers now.”’ ‘Certainly, I will do so,’’ responded Ogle- thorpe, suiting the action to the word. The next moment shadows rested over the apartment. It was with difficulty that the two could distinguish each others features. ‘““T did send for you, Oglethorpe. I want something done which I cannot trust to any one but you. Ithought of you first cf all because I know you will not betray me.”’ ‘*] would die sooner,”’ “Thank you. I know I shall not be dis- appointed in you. lInow, what I want is this—listen closely now: I must speak hard- ly abovemy breath. There must be no se- erets between us. I know the man who shot me last night.”’ ‘“You do?” “’Sh! I tell you, we must not let the slightest syllable of this get upon the wind. It would mean ruin for us both. I say I know him. He has haunted tiny footsteps like a sleuth-hound, till last night he found the opportunity he sought, and like the craven coward heis, he sought my life. He must be removed !”’ ‘** But, colonel, why have you not mention- ed thir before? What is the reason you have not given it into the hands of the law, military if not civil, to seek him and punish him ?”’ mt YONTNEROY.” THH WAR LiSBRANY. ‘“T have my reasons, Oglethorpe, For the present they must remain concealed iu my breast. Some time I may beuble to answer these questions. Not now. You will not press me further, I feel certain.” ‘Pardon me for suggesting that which causes you pain. Ignorance alone must be my plea. But now, what do you wish from me ?”’ ‘‘T was coming to that. I will speak plain- ly. Will you undertake the work of ridding me of that villain?” ‘‘How canI, colonel? You forget that I know nothing of the man. It would be necessary for me, at least, to know what his personal appearance is. Otherwise I might work in the dark, and perhaps commit some awful blunder.”’ ‘‘Thave thought of that, and I must con- fess it affords me no little pleasure to tell you that by following my iustructions you cannot mistake the man | wish you to find. Iam sure he is now in disguise; but he can- not change the expression of his eyes. Here isa picture. Look at it carefully. No man ever had such eyes as those. Heaven! the are burned into my soul! Would that could forget them! Once they rest upon you they seem to sink so deep into your memory that you will remember them to your dying day! '» The colonel handed Oglethorpe a photo- graph as he spoke. Ovlethorpe took it, and bending over it, by the uncertain light of the room strove to get an idea of the man it represented. “Take it with you; it will bea sure guide. Iknow it. The manis hanging about this vicinity. I feel sure of that. Hunt him down, and don’t let him escape! You area good shot ?”’ ‘*T never miss ?”’ ‘‘ Be doubly sure this time, and I swear to you that you shall have anything it is in my power to grant.”’ | Oglethorpe rose from the posture he had held over the wounded Confeuerate, and paced up and down the room several times in &@ nervous way. It was evident that he was deliberating what answer to give the colonel. His heart was bad enough to do even baser crimes than thut suggested. The only question was how to introduce the subject nearest his heart. Finally he paused before Fontneroy. ‘There is one thing, colonel, you can help meabout. I love Molly Grame, the cousin of Laura Doane, who is, rumor says, your fiance. Cun you do anything toward over- coming a prejudice she has for me? Lam not so well versed in these matters of the heart as you are, and I don’t know how to get at the little witch.” Fontneroy started violently at the men- tion of Laura’s name in connection with his own. ‘‘Who says that Laura Doane is to be my bride?”’ he demanded, almost fiercely. ‘‘People must not be too free with my name.”’ ‘‘ Every one is talking about it. You must admit the matter looks rather suspicious. Here she is, making you calls on such a night as the last.”’ ‘‘Tt was imprudent in her, to say the least; but—— Well, Oglethorpe, I'll see what can be done. I think I may be able to assist you.” “That’s all I ask. Now, good-morning. You shall hear from me soon.” In another moment he was gone. Outside the house herubbed his hands together and laughed almost boyishly. “T’m getting my hands full of jobs. I don’treally like the looks of this thing of the eolonel’s. I’d like to know what’s be- hind allthis. PerhapsI can find out before theend comes. Atany rete, it will prove a good thing for me. I see that Fontneroy is in earnest this time.”’ An hour later a man rode out of camp up- on a powerful, long-limbed horse which bore him speedily out of sight around a turn in the wooded road. From beneath the slouch- ed hat he wore, there peered the dark baleful face of Oliver Oglethorpe. CHAPTER VIII. THE RIVAL SUITORS MEET, ‘‘7T must have the dispatches!” ‘ The voice of Phil Lamonte was stern a fate, and hearing it, the heart of the Confed- ernte began to misgive him. ‘| have come on here expressly to over- take you and get possession of the message you are carrying to the rebel generals in Ar- kansas. Iam not going to be defeated now when they are almost in my hands." __ nnn ee eee 0000 a — eee eed —— - ee ee a er ‘‘ What do you intend to do with them?” asked Bill, very seriously. ‘‘T mean to hasten on to Nashville with them and place them in the hands of Gen- erul Buell. You seeI am very frank with you. There is Do use in your trying to escape me. Idon’t want to have any further diffi- culty with you, and Isee only one way out of this trouble. You must come with me.” ‘“With you? Never!’’ exclaimed Bill, springing up and making amovye to draw his pistol. _ Philraised hisownarm. A pistol gleamed’ in the face of the Confederate. ‘*T tell you, Bill, you only make matters worse by resisting. I mean what I say. Those dispatches are going to Nashville. if you refuse to give them up, why, then I must take you also,”’ / An expression of suppressed rage burstfrom — the lips of the discomfitted soldier, but he’ — sunk back to the ground weakly. - ‘‘We have no time to lose fs continued © Phil ‘‘Getupandcomewiithme. Remem- - ber that I shall not take my eyes off you, so any attempt at escape will compel me to deal severely with you. Come!”’ The Confederate obeyed. There was no other alternative. The young scout led the way back through the bushes to the nook where he had left his horse standing. ‘**Mount!”’ he said, laconieally. Bill sprung into the saddle, bounded lightly up behind him. ‘‘This makes a heavy load, but this horse is a powerful animal, and can carry us for a time, at least.”’ Thus the two set out for the camp of Gen- eral Buell. As yet Phil hac not seen the papers he so. _ sincerely coveted—the dispatches to Van ~ Doruand Price. Stillhe was very positive they were concealed upon the person of the man who sat before him, and he determined that nothing should prevent him from ob- taining them. Slippery though the country read was, they made fair progress, for Phil urged the horse on ut the highest possible rate of speed. Toward noon they were passing through a lonesome piece of wood and on either hand nothing but interminable forests were to he seen. Theroad dwindled down till it became little more than a bridle-path. While threading this dreary way Phil way — startled by the sudden noise of pursuing horsemen. Almost before he could spur on his horse, there shot around a turn in the road a troop of Confederates. ¥ a ‘There was little use to attempt escape by — flight, with the double load his horse bore. — Something must be done, and that, too, at once. ‘“‘Give me the dispatches!’’ he said, in a> commanding tone. ‘If you hesitate or re- fuse I will not be responsible for the result.” The Confederate felt the cold muzzle of a revolver pressed close against his temple. ‘‘Have you no mercy ?”’ be cried, hoarsely. “T promised Bud that 1 would guard these papers with my life. Yet here you compel me to yield them up so tamely that I feel like the base coward Iam.” ‘* Don't stop to talk. Itis too late for that now. Be quick with the dispatches.”’ : ‘Curse you, you shall repent this!"" was the reply of the rebel, as he plunged his me hand into his breast pocket. ye In another moment Phil held between his — fingers the blood-stained package containing the dispatehes he had sought. Hiding them in his own bosom, he said, sharply: ‘‘Now get down! ther,”’ ‘‘You intend to leave me here to receive the punishment of a traitor for giving up the message I should have delivered only to General Price. This is terrible!’’ ‘Get down instantly or I will push you off!’ repeated Phil, bringing the horse to a halt. The Confederate half jumped, half fell to the ground, where he stood waiting the ap- proach of the horsemen in the rear. Quick as thought Phil Lamonte was hur- rying onward. His horse, relieved of its extra burden, and smarting under the spurs of our hero, soon placed a considerable distance between him and the following party which had drawn up where he had left Phil, whose story they _ eagerly listened to. My It was now a race for life. "By Phil knew that if he fell into the clutches ~ of the Confederates, now that they had ms Gomichbooksscom j and Phil , I cannot carry you fur-