= NK 378.01 )00.00 300.00 x 240.56 81.73 00.00 00.00 34.52 00.00 55.21 89.73 mmm Ul JIS Sho bbb bbbbbdbbbibibbbbdd Ther RT IT rTP eo Private Wilson, U.S. A. How a Roisterer Made Good When Given a Chance. By EDGAR ALLEN FORBES Copyright by Frank A. Munsey Co. ae. .8.8.8.00 0.000000 0080080008080 TT TTTTITTTTITPTTTTTTTTTY TY 90 2'e 00 0.00 6b e 00a nee oe. oe eB BR RR RR RR RPE RTP TRY 2.0.0 9 00 SWE oo LJ [7 2.8 2 0 . Tee wv Scene, Fort McKinley, on the Pasig river just above Manila; post No 8, on the river road. ‘Private Sam Simpson, late of Keokuk county, Ia.. on the job. : Time, somewhere between midnight and 2a. m. Sentinel Simpson, tall and lank, paces his lonejy post thoughtfully. Suddenly the voice of one singing is wafted on the breeze. “That's Slug Wilson's voice, and he's as full as a tick!” mused Simpson. a surmise correct in both par- ticulars. Slug was originally from Frisco, where he once drew thundering ap- plause, but a meager salary, as the versatile comedian of a stock company. As the applause and the wages subsid- ed he drifted into the picturesque Bar- pary coast. playing all night music halls in summer and loafing the rest of the year. As he approached nearer and nearer to the ragged edge the alluring litera- ture of the recruiting officer caught his eye. They were filling out the ranks of the Thirricth infantry at the Presi- dio under orders for the Philippines, and Wilson decided that he would look well among those present. ' After a few months in Manila he transferred to the Philippine scouts to break the monotony. He broke it rap. idly and in a short time had risen to “pnoncom” rank. Then the lure of the white lights came back, and he trans- ferred again to the Thirtieth. Slug was now returning’to Fort Mec- Kinley five hours late. Instead of be ing depressed by that stern military fact Wilson caroled blithely on the still night air.’ The chanson was rude- ly interrupted by the Sharp voice of ‘Simpson. “Halt!” it said, omitting the rest of the formula as superfluous. Private Wilson halted and came to attention. Then he solemnly saluted the sentry on pest No. 3. ‘Then he gave him the left band salute. “Ah,” said Wilson, * 'tis a brave sol dier lad! How handsome he looks in his suit of blue! How 1 regret that 1 have but one life to give for my coun- try!” This being ‘the sentry’s first experi- ence ‘with Slug in an official capacity, he assumed that the delinquent was under arrest. ‘As a matter of routine he turned in the call: “Corporal ofthe guard. post No. 8" Now, Privaté Simpson was ‘not stand: ing with bis rifle at “charge bayonets.” b . BIMPSON GAVE THE DRUNKEN MAN A SHOVE THAT DEFLECTED THE WEAPON. like the sentries on the stage. His gun was at “port’—across his body, with the muzzle over the left shoulder. Slug bent his knee and planted his right foot in Simpson's. stomach. The sentry went double and careened back- ward, dropping his gun. Wilson ‘seized the rifle, rolled the gasping sentinel on his face and sat down on his shoulder blades. The corporal of the guard came along at a brisk walk, peering through the darkness for the man on post No. 3. “Halt!” calleg Slug. . The corporal halted and dropped bis gun to attention mechanically. “About face! commanded the voice in the darkness. “What the deuce’ - the corporal was about to inquire when Slug rose un- steadily to his feet. “Ha' Another of the invaders!” he exclaimed dramatically. “Through him goes the lgorrote Sp year, the spear that | knows no brother And he hurled the | sentinel's rifle, bayonet to the front, i as though it were a spear. Simp saw the movement in time to give the drunken man a shove that sent the weapon wide of its mark. Then the two guards clin ned with Wilson. but the issue huug in the bai- ance. “The guard! No. 3—double time! called the corporal ‘in the direction of post No. 2. When the detail came the exhausted “sentries were hanging grimly to their man. Slug was forced to his feet, his elbows drawn back so that a rifle bar- rel could be thrust through the trian- gles, and told ‘to march. . “It is only Wilson on a tear,” the corporal reported to the officer of the guard. “Put him away, then,” commanded the lieutenant. ’ Slug saluted the officer with much ceremony and would fain have had further speech with him, but the cor- poral hustled him inside, where the men of the next relief were catching little naps. The corporal threw a blanket into the corner and invited Wilson to get busy and use it. And the corporal went out. Next morning with the toe of his reg- ulation shoe the corporal of the guard prods Wilson roughly and bids the brave dreamer awake. Slug rubs his swollen eyelids and rolls his tongue around in his dry mouth. “What am I in for?’ he asked. “Don’t you remember?’ asked the corporal sternly. ‘Not a thing this side of the Es: coita.” “Well, you're in bad. -You came back loaded, assaulted the sentry, tried to throw a bayonet through the corporal of the third relief and raised hob gen erally.” : Slug settled back in deep thought That meant court martial and dishon orable discharge, to say the least. In the corner stood a rifle with a car tridge belt bung across it. Slug’s eye took it all in. With the muzzle under his chip and his toe against the trigger the court martial would be quite superfluous. That seemed the most cheerful way out of it. / He threw open the mechanism, in- serted a load and sat down on the floor, meaning business. But—what about the old lady? How would she live when his pay stopped? For there would be no pen- sion. He was trying to figure this out when the owner of the gun suddenly returned for it. Slug mechanically handed it over and then happened to think again. “Hold on a minute!” he called. “Now what?” demanded the guard “Wilson took the rifle, gave the mech- anism a wrench and took out the load. Then he handed it back to the aston- ished soldier. *How in thunder did that load get in there?" . “Fell down the barrel, 1 suppose.” said Wilson carelessly. The guard gave him another look and went out to warn the corporal to keep an eye on Wilson and not leave any rifles lying around. Just then Slug appeared in the’ doorway and asked to be sent under guard to his captain’s quarters. The captain gave him a stern recep- tion. : “What do you want here?’ he de- manded. “I’m.not.asking for myself, captain,” and Wilson ‘met the forbidding frown squarely. “I'm in bad, and it's my own fault. ‘As far as I am concerned, I was just about to blow my od Bead oft.” “Why didn’t you?” asked the “cap- | tain sarcastically. “I happened to think about, the old lady. It’s my pay that keeps her £o- "<1 thought the whisky shops were: kept going with your pay.” answered the officer shortly. “The postofiice knows where most of my pay goes every month. The drinks come free, and that’s ‘why 1 get over- loaded.” * “You ought to know better.” “1 do, but you know what a place Manila is, captain.” “It isn’t very lively, but that doesn’t help matters. You'll have to face the music, Wilson.” “Facing the music is all right for me, but I want to keep the old lady from having to face it.” “What do you want me to do?” ask- ed the officer shortly. “1 want you to head off this court martial and have me transferred back to the constabulary,” said Wilson boldly. “Why ‘should 1 do that?” “Begause every man in this company knows you've got a heart in you,” and the defendant’s voice had the ring in it. “Listen, captain! You know that before I came back to this town my record was as straight as a string.” “Don’t blame it on the town.” . +I don’t mean it that way. I mean that I am all right as a soldier except when I'm drunk, and that don’t hap- pen anywhere else.” «Pll admit that you had a good rec- ord in the constabulary.’ The officer now began to pace the room in deep thought. : “Yes, and I'll make a better one if you'll send me back. It’s the ome chance T've got, captain. If you turn me down it's going to be bad for the old lady!" «1’1] think it over, Wilson.” interview closed. When Slug had returned to the guardhouse’ the captain called one of his men and sent him to the postoffice with a memorandum. The answer said that Private Wilson had been sending And the | money orders with unvarying regular- James Wilson ef San ity to a Mrs. Francisco “111 ask the colonel to give hi * gai the capte vin i ‘ a the constabulary spent | ‘three joyful months chasing all over the map of Luzon on the trail of con- 1 i uous disturbers of j be public peace. 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