Betty at Fort Blizzard

uld see Anita every day if he wanted-and he always wanted to see Anita. She was now nearing her nineteenth

Mrs. Fortescue to receive the young officers, for whom she always had a tender spot in her heart. Broussard was one of the later arrivals. Already through the great win

t Broussard gave him a rapturous greeting. This wa

ht heah in the drawin'-room, and I spect she jump fer joy when she see you!"

snow and ice after snakes and mosq

between Broussard and Kettle, accompanied with th

spered Kettle confidentially, "she jes' smile

and Broussard considered

ar from the plaza the band playing the solemn hymn which precedes the retreat on Sunday afternoons. Suddenly the sunset gun roared out, showing that the flag was descending from the flagstaff. At once, every one in the room rose and stood respectfully at attention until the flag came down. Broussard, in the friendly shadow of the tea table, held on a moment to Anita's han

aking her part with a subdued current of gaiety unusual in her, for, as Mrs

le. One thing surprised Broussard-not only that Anita appeared quite grown up but that she could talk of many things of which he had never before heard her speak. As for the Philippines, she had all the lore about them at her finger tips. Broussard, watching h

study of the Philippines?

she had unconsciously revealed a great secret she lowered

verybody knew how devoted Anita was to her father and Broussard considered the C. O. as a lion in his path. Of course, the old curmudgeon, as Broussard in his own mind called the Colonel, would rake up a lot of imaginary objections-he always was a martinet, and would be a stiff proposition to master in the present emergency. Broussard was tolerably certain of Mrs. Fortescue's assistance, who was an open and confessed sentim

hought all fathers of adorable daughters highly undesirable persons. After long and hard thinking Broussard c

s Broussard's inner belief. "Anita will expect any man she marri

eat ball-room and many little dances and dinners, and Broussard always contrived to be with Anita the best part of the evening. He was always willing to sing and Anita was always ready to play the violin obligatos for him. Broussard developed wonderful knowledge of song birds and entirely abandoned game chickens, and was astonishingly regular in his att

e in repentance, began once more to believe that it was possible to regenerate a man's soul. Most prisoners are a trifle too ready to accept the theory of the forgiveness of sins. Not so Lawrence. Often, he had paroxysms of despair, accusing himself wildly and doubting whether the good God could forgive so evil a sinner as he. Sometimes, he would refuse to see his wife, declaring he was not fit for her to speak to; again, he would weep and as

and your wife's lov

eant's merciful soul could not accept the chaplain's theory that

nt's answer to the chaplain's kindly sophism, "but Lawrence is a penitent ma

k fighting, motors, superfluous clothes and high-priced horses, and, if his word could be taken for it, he had adopted Spartan tastes and meant to sti

his last cigar, Mrs. Fortescue sitting by, "I wish Broussard would let up a little in hi

s soon as he marries Anita-for I have seen ever since the night of the music ride that An

t," growled

not be so stiff with him," urged Mrs. Fo

can have Anita?" roared the Colonel.

the time," answered M

id not share and could not understand the pangs of his soul at the thought of parting with Anita. He had often observed that mothers willingly gave their daughters in marriage,

giving up my son to another woman. So, after all, since our children will take on a new love, we must return to our honeymoon days and n

was soothed and he did not h

Fortescue's orderly holding the bridle reins of Gamechick, who was saddled. Broussard was in his riding clothes and was himself waiting for the horse lent him for the afternoon by a brother officer. He

er, I love

nd his heart softened as he recalled the last time he had s

ke to ride that old charger again; if so, I will send for my own horse. Gamechick belongs to my daughter a

d, agreeing as always with Colonel Fortescue. "I shall be gl

nd the two men, mounting, rode off and away from the po

el plied him with questions. They were so interested in their talk that they reached the spur of the mountain ranges before they knew it. The crisp air had got into their blood and into that of their horses, which took the mountain road sharply, and at an eager trot. They had cl

rhanging cliff, and on it, a magnificent fir tree reared itself

pointing to the tree. "Was the

ce it was as if the cliff crumbled and trees and boulders and ice and snow came thundering and crashing down into the roadway. One moment the crystal air had been so still that the click of the iron hoofs of their

ozen branches of a fir tree. A little way off he heard Gamechick, whinnying with fear, while under a fallen boulder Colonel Fortescue's horse lay, his ne

ave, but I don't think I

that he was not injured in any way except the broken ankle; but a man with a broken ankle, six m

d had got him up from the frozen earth and arranged a rude seat from the branch

horse, lying as still and helpless as the rock that lay upon his neck. Gamechick,

back to the post and get he

ldly and galloped down the mountain road at breakneck speed. The sound of his iron hoofs pounding the icy road as he fled, driven by fear an

aid Broussard, "he is maki

eck," replied the Colonel coolly, taking

ely until the last echo had

w on the open road, and will get to

ng upward was a signal for those who would come to search for them. He took the saddle and blanket from the dead horse and arra

eral Moreau, something more than a hundred years ago, who s

" Broussard proceeded to take off the Colonel's boot and stocking. He rubbed the broken ankle with snow and

gorously. A lieutenant does not lead the conversation with a Colonel, and s

ed that he stopped smoking and threw away his cigar. It could not soothe him as it did G

on smoking?" asked

larly," shamelessly answered Brous

t the men quiet by singing the old song ''Twas

aid Colonel Fortescue, after a moment. "Suppose you si

ng with all the feeling that Broussard could infuse into his

Keep on singing unti

mber a song that subalterns sang to pianos, to banjos and guitars, and even without accompaniment, the favorite song of the subaltern, "A Warrior Bold."

hen I was a youngster, but I never had

vely to these songs of love. The purple twilight was coming on fast and the ruddy glare of the fire threw a beautiful crimson light upon the snow-draped cliffs and ice-clad trees. During the intervals between

will alarm my wife and daughter," s

hoped that Anita would be a