Trooper Tales — page 47: what you’re looking at

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

The Silent Trooper. 39 empty shell in his six-shooter! Mat Crim, his superior officer, ran to his horse like a thing affrighted, and gal- loped away. “Go and tell her, old chap,’”’ Lander whispered, “that Charlie Howard was afraid to meet her to-night. Tell her that his memory is a far worthier shrine for her wor- ship than—a common cavalryman. Tell her I was a de- serter, because—damn it all, old- man, I think a lot of the little witch. You needn't tell her that Crim is a coward—just say he is a good shot.” And when there were no more words I hurried away to the village to keep Lander’s engagement. She was there—a little thing, pretty and trembling. There was a lace handkerchief in her hand and a soft perfume about her. : I told her what Lander had said. She did not cry, but clutched my arm with fierce strength. “Take me to him,” she demanded. I led the way back over the rolling road, and when we neared the spot where I had left my silent friend in the moonlight, I heard a long, low, mournful howl, the an- swer mingled with the echo. “Let us hurry—faster!” I said. There was no change. Lieut. Mat Crim had not re- turned. The woman picked up the pistol which had fallen by the silent man’s side, and drew open the cylinder with the ease of a veteran. Six loaded cartridges fell into her hand. GCOMmiIGchdooks (E)