Evening Republican, Volume 16, Number 21, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 24 January 1912 — WHEN CUPID MEETS MARS [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

WHEN CUPID MEETS MARS

By EDWARD B. CLARK

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1 T army headquarters In the A capital it is always possible to pick up stories of the servloe* let be Baid that they are not always Btories of war. Cupid was armed. f even though his weapon was I only a 1)OT ’ and Ma r ß tkkes \ f|{ kindly to Cupid. V ~j Two of these army tales >oM made a listener take the libTyr erty of asking the right to reproduce, and so here they are given with some slight change of name, but with no change of circumstances. First Lieutenant Robert Emmett Kavanaugh was pacing up and down his narrow quarters in Fort Grady, Michigan, holding a telegram In his hand. He had read it twenty times, but at every second turn in his nervous walk he read it again. The telegram was dated Chicago, and this is what it said: "Leave Thursday for Florida. Uncle Frank ill. • Stay indefinite. Norah Desmond.” f Lieutenant Bob Kavanaugh and Norah Desmond were engaged. They were to be married as soon as a few accommodating superior officers would consent to he killed off or die in their beds and thereby give Bob a chance to write captain instead of lieutenant before his name on official papers. The young officer had fixed the limit of his waiting at about a year. “Norah’s going to Florida,” he muttered to himself. "I haven’t seen her for three weeks and won’t see her for six months to come. Uncle Frank is one of the kind who never dies and never gets well, and Norah’ll Btay down there until the old man is willing to let her go. She’s more of a stickler for duty than Old Muggs, the commanding officer, and that’s saying a lot He won’t give me a leave. I’ve had too many. Great Wtnneld Scott, but I would like to see Norah before she goes.” And Lieutenant Robert Emmett Kavanaugh sighed. . Kavanaugh couldn’t keep anything to himself. and in five minutes he was telling his woes to Captain Percy Lanyard of the artillery corps. “Brace up, Kavanaugh,” said Lanyard; “Muggs is going to send a general prisoner through Chicago to Fort Sherman to stand trial. He was going to send a sergeantin charge. It isn’t a very pleasant duty, but If you’ll volunteer, I think Muggs will send you, and you can stop off on your way back from Sherman—it is only a few miles from Chicago—and see your blue-eyed Norah before she gets on the Florida ‘limited.’ ” Twelve hours from that time Bob Kavanaugh was sitting in the smoking car of a Chicago bound train, with a big Colt revolver strapped around him and an enlisted man, with a downcast look, sitting alongside of him. Bob Kavanaugh had a soft near:. The soldier at his side had seen eight years of service and had never been in trouble before. He had assaulted the “top” sergeant, a serious offense In the army, as may go without saying “Cheer up, Speiicer,” said the lieutenant; "you’ve been a good soldier, as I know, and I don’t think It will go very hard with you—six months at the most —and then you’ll be restored to duty.” "I hit him, all right, lieutenant,” answered Private James Spencer, “and he deserved it if ever a man did, but you can’t do such things in the army, no matter what the ‘ton* «mvn tn you, and so I am good for two years and a *bobtail’ discharge. It’s tough. I never saw the inside of the ‘mill’ before in my eight years’ service, except when I was on guard.” Part of a freight train went into a ditch ahead of the Fort Grady passenger train. Kavanaugh and his prisoner were delayed five hours. The lieutenant fumed and said things under his. breath. Finally the way was cteared and the train ran on to Chicago. It was Thursday and in four hours Norah’s train would leave for Florida. It was utterly impossible for the officer, to get .his prisoner to Fort Sherman and to return in time to say good-by to his fiancee.

Kavanaugh and his charged stepped from the train into the Chicago depot. Bob’s heart was sore. "I must see her,” he said to himself. “I can’t stand it for six months.” At that instant he saw at the depot cigar stand, making a purchase. Jack Bacon, a Chicago club man and an intimate friend. Kavanaugh hurried his charge over toward the young fellow. “Jack, old man, glad to see you. You have an hour or two to spiare, I know you have. Don’t say no,” and with that the lieutenant grabbed his friend by the arm. motioned his prisoner to walk ahead, and the three went on a half trot into the office of a hotel across the street, Kavanaugh. threw as 2 bill before the clerk and ordered a room. He hurried the astounded Bacon and the prisoner into the apartment on the second floor. “Jack,” said Kavanaugh, in a low tone, as you love me, watch this man. I must see Norah Desmond. She’s off to Florida. Take this gun and don’t fall me,” and with that First Lieutenant Robert Emmett Kavanaugh shoved a revolver into Jack Bacon’s hand, bolted through the door, out of the hotel and on to a trolley car. In twenty minutes he was with Norah Desmond, who was in the midst of the last hours of preparation for her Florida trip. \ 1; In twenty minutes more the doorbell of the' flat rang violently. The maid opened it and in rushed Jack Bacon, flushed and fairly beside himself. “Bob,” he yelled, “your prisoner ■kipped. He kicked open a dear into the next room and jumped onto a low roof and then into the alley. I took a shot at him. but missed, and ween I got down he was clean gone.’’ Bob Kavanaugh sank into a chair, bis face pale. “Norah.” he said, “this meafis courtmartial and dismissal for me unless I can catch the fellow. It’s a clean case of neglect of duty, awful neglect of duty, and old Muggs doesn’t love me any too well, anyway. It’s all up, dear, if I don't get him, and if'T am kicked out of the army I don’t know what HI dd. *jf can’t even dig a ditch, though I’d try willingly enough for you. But this won’t catch him. I’m off. but I’ll be at the train to say good-by,” apd Kavanaugh was out of the

door and down the Xtairs four steps at a time. Over on Halsted street In a room above a store a pretty, pale girl sat talking to a soldier In uniform. “It’s all up, Polly,” he was saying, ‘T hit the ‘top’ sergeant. He deserved it, but I was put In arrest and was to be tried, and It meant two years. 1 just cut away from a ‘cit’ whom the officer who had me in tow left me in care of. The officer went to see his girl. I guess he's in love or he wouldn’t have done such a fool trick. Well, I’m in love, too, Polly dear, but I’ve got to get out of this as soon as I can get other togs on.” “Oh, this is awful, Jim,” said the girl, “and you’ll be a deserter, too.” ■ “I won’t get anv mqtre for that than I’d get Tor the other. I don’t like the idea any better than you do. I guess the officer will get It harder than I will. It’s neglect of duty with him and that’ll kick him out of the service. I’m sorry for him, for he isn’t half a bad sort.” Then suddenly changing the subject the solidler said, “How’s your mother?” “Better, Jim, but she’d have died if it hadn't been for Miss Norah Desmond. She’s an angel. I had to stop work to nurse mother, and the money gave out and I got sick, and Miss Norah gave us a nurse and a doctor s and did lots else. I think she saved my life, too.” “Norah Desmond, Polly? That’s the name of the girl the lieutenant I cut from is to marry. He’ll be disgraced and the girl will suffer. She saved you and your mother, did she, Polly? Get on your things, quick. She leaves for Florida. I know the train. The lieutenant 11 be there, I know that. Hurry, girl.” Lieutenant Robert Emmett Kavanaugh was kissing Norah Desmond good-by. His face was pale and anxious. “I’m afraid it’s all up with me, Norah,” he was saying, “but keep up a gQOri fiffMLPf ** ! ’ f Just then from behind him came a voice loud and with something of a ring of humor in it. all are present and accounted for." Kavanaugh turned like a flash. There stood Private Spencer saluting with his right hand, while his left was holding that of a very pretty girl. "Spencer, you’re a brick,” said Kavanaugh, and nothing but army training kept him from slapping his inferior qp the. back. “I’ll use every official friend I have, to get you out of your scrape.” \ A year later in pleasant quarters at Fort Grady sat Captain Kavanaugh and his wife. "Norah," he said, “First Sergeant James Spencer has applied for a furlough to go to Chicago to get' married. Shall I approve the application?" “Bob, if you don’t,” said Norah, with her i c* dancing, “I’ll get a divorce.” The story of Robert Emmett Kavanaugh and Norafa Desmond was told by_ an “ancient” Just about ready tO' lake“hls’'place oh the re-”’ tired list. The second story of West Poiht Tift came from the lips of a. stripling soldier who perhaps had recent and*keen memories of \ the matter in hand. ' • ’

“Do your duty though the heavens fall,” said the commandant of cadets to the battalion of stripling soldiers. The commandant had a curious way of mixing his aphorisms, but he meant well. , Obedience and devotion to duty are the keynotes of the scale of life’s harmony at West Point. Billy Lang was a first elassman. Billy was a private. He probably would have been a cadet officer if he hadn’t been caught the previous winter taking a trip to Cold Spring over the frozen surface of the Hudson. It was in Billy’s “yearling camp” that he met Frances Curtis. ' —; Billy Lang was the oldest man in his class and consequently was called "dad.” He was just under the age limit when he entered and would be within a month of 26 when he graduated. Now Billy was In love with Frances Curtis. \ X He was sitting with her now under the trees near the camp guard tents. Billy was on guard, though off post for the time being. “You see. Miss Curtis,” he said, “the second class being on furlough and the ‘plebes’ not being military enough yet to do duty, we first classmen have to walk post to help the ‘yearlings’ out. When the plebes are turned In to the battalion we will do guard duty only as officers.” "It must be hard work, this walking up and down all night long, Mr. Lang.” said Frances, "but then It’s duty and I always did admire a soldier’s devotion to his duty.” “Yes, duty is everything. I was always a great stickler for it,” answered Billy. “One should always do his duty up to the handle, no matter what direction it takes nor whom the doing of it bits.” “I think you are right, Mr. Lang. There’s a certain nobility about it that appeals to one.” Billy Lang was hugely pleased to find that on the subject of duty Frances Curtis’ Ideas coincided with his own. He changed the subject, however, abruptly. "I see that Mr. Jackson is here,” he said, looking at Frances in a halfcurious way. » “Yes,” answered the girl, a touch of color coming Into her cheeks, "he came up on the Powell yesterday and Is to stay here until tomorrow.”- r Frederick Jackson was a civilian admirer of Miss Curtis. “I’m .sorry I’m on guard today, Miss Curtis,” said Billy, "for there is a hop tonight in the mess hall, and I can't be there. I shall thing of you waltzing while I am walking my dreary post.” ! *what number are you. Mr. Lang?" ' ~ “Number four," answered Billy. • “It’s just back of the commandant’s tent and runs parallel to the road leading along the bluff to the hotel. I go on post at taps and walk until midnight. ’HI bethere Just at the time the hop is over." - - * „ r “Hurry up and turn out, first relief,” yelled corporal erf the guard, and Billy Lang said

a hasty good-by and dug out at double time for the gun rack outside the first guard tent. “It’s duty,” he sighed to himself, “a hard duty, but still duty even if it does take you away from the girl you love.” It was eleven o’clock at night. Taps had sounded an hour earlier.— BiHy tang was pacing up and down number four between the trunks of the great elms, which, with the sentinels, guarded the camp. It was the blackest kind of a night. Up on Crow’s Nest mountain and to the northward toward the Catskills Hudson’s crew was playing tenpins. It is a long bowling alley which Old Rip’s friends use when they begin their favorite game. The thunder came nearer and the lightning played overhead. This is a time when the sentinel, with his steel bayonet pointing skyward, feels more nervously apprehensive than when in the face of a humah enemy. Patter, patter, patter, the rain began to fall on the leaves of the elms. The sentinels on number four knew that in a minute the gates would be open and then deluge. The flickering oil lamp at the south end of the post sent a feeble gleam out into the darkness. Forty yards down the roadway Billy Lang saw someone approaching. "Who comes there?” rang out the challenge. “Friends,” came the answer In a man’s voice.

A flash of lightning lit up the roadway and Billy Lang saw Frederick Jackson and Francos Curtis held motionless by his challenge. At that instant came the deluge. Umbrellaless and unprotected in any way stood the young couple, straining their eyes toward a place where they knew was a young fellow with a bayonet-tipped rifle. Billy Lang knew that he coul,d strain a point and let the two pass. Any cadet in the corps would have done it on recognition as certain as his. But Billy was a stickler for duty. He knew his orders. "Halt, friends," he said, and then raising his voice, he yelled, “Corporal of the guard No. 4.” Hpw the rain did come down. Curtis’ light ball dress was a rag. She was chilled through and she stood holding the arm of her escort and shivering from her light slippers to the bedraggled rose thtat crowned her hair. Frederick Jackson was in as bad a plight, though he didn’t allow himself to shiver. “It’s my duty,” said Billy Lang to himself, “and Frances is a stickler for duty; shell like, me all the better for it.” •the corporal came at last He allowed the shivering couple to pass on to the hotel. He saw the plight they were in, and if he hadn’t been a ‘yearling’ corporal and Billy Lang a first classman he would have told No. 4 that ho was an ass for not using n little rnmnwmsense and allowing the storm-stricken pair to pass. Frederick Jackson left for New York the next morning. When he was relieved from guard Billy Lang called at the hotel. Miss Curtis could not be seen that day. She was slightly indisposed. The next afternoon Billy Lang received a note. It was in Frances Curtis’ handwriting. It read like this: "A telegram from New York tells mother that Mr. Jackson is dangerously ill with pneumonia as a result of exposure in the storm. He has no relatives nearer than England. I am a great stickler for duty and so mother and I are Just leaving for New York to nurse Mr. Jackson. You will doubtless applaud my course, for you are one of duty's own disciples.” Frances Curtis did not return to West Point that summer. It was late in the fall when the postman one day handed Billy Lang an envelope postmarked New York. It contained wedding cards in which the names of Curtis and Jackson were prominent A yearling corporal stack hie lMad.-te. ttML door. "Tomorrow, Lang,” he said, “you are on special duty.” 1 , '*• —^ duty,” said Billy. And the officer of the day who Mas "skinned” him for profanity. *