ide came
raining down into the faces of their fellows on the other, and even as
Fred was imploring his brother to come away now and at once, a rock,
hurtling over the nearest car, struck the roof and bounded into the
throng below, cutting a gash on the younger brother's white forehead,
and striking him senseless to the earth, just as some untaught,
undisciplined fool among the deputies pulled trigger and fired.
Whistling overhead the bullet went hissing away up the tracks the signal
for a mad rush of men and boys. An instant more and only three forms
occupied the ground where a hundred were struggling but the moment
before--Jim Wallace and a fellow-trainsman bending over the senseless,
bleeding form of brother Fred.

"They've shot him! They've killed him!" howled the retreating crowd.
"Down with the deputies! Kill 'em! hang 'em!" were the furious yells.
Three or four policemen came running up to assist the fallen. An old
gray-haired man dropped the lever of the switch engine, calling to his
assistant to watch it, and ran forward along the tracks, wild anxiety in
his eyes, and in another moment, brushing aside the bluecoats, old
Wallace threw himself upon his knees and raised the blood-stained face
of his boy to his heaving breast. "In God's name," he cried, his lips
piteously quivering, "how came he here? Why is he not at the office?"

There was a moment of silence. Covering his face in his hands, big burly
Jim turned almost sobbing away. A young man leaping across the tracks
caught the last question as he joined them, and it was his voice that
was heard in answer. "Because they've discharged him, Mr. Wallace, as
they have me, for obeying orders to join our regiment at once."

And as though recalled to his senses by a comrade's words, Corporal Fred
faintly opened his eyes and looked up and saw his father's face. "Don't
let mother know," he murmured. "It might frighten her for nothing. Help
me over to the cable road, Charley; we've got to hurry to the armory."

And then the crowd came swarming back even as a little boy, escaped for
the moment from watchful eyes at home and drawn by eager curiosity to
the gates, now ran sobbing back to tell the dreadful news he had heard
among the women in the crowd--that brother Fred was shot and killed.

[TO BE CONTINUED.]

OAKLEIGH.

BY ELLEN DOUGLAS DELAND.

CHAPTER VII.

Neal dropped into the hammock that was hung across the corner of the
porch, and waited for Edit