"That must be the dynamite gun I have heard so much about," he
shouted. Borrowe saluted and shouted assent. The officer, greatly
interested, forgot his errand.
"I'd like to see you fire it once," he said eagerly. Borrowe,
delighted at the chance to exhibit his toy to a professional soldier,
beamed with equal eagerness.
"In just a moment, sir," he said; "this shell seems to have jammed a
bit." The officer, for the first time seeing the shell stuck in the
breech, hurriedly gathered up his reins. He seemed to be losing
interest. With elaborate carelessness I began to edge off down the
road.
"Wait," Borrowe begged; "we'll have it out in a minute."
Suddenly I heard the officer's voice raised wildly.
"What - what," he gasped, "is that man doing with that axe?"
"He's helping me to get out this shell," said Borrowe.
"Good God!" said the officer. Then he remembered his errand.
Until last year, when I again met young Borrowe gayly disporting
himself at a lawn-tennis tournament at Mattapoisett, I did not know
whether his brother's method of removing dynamite with an axe had
been entirely successful. He said it worked all right.
At the turn of the road I found Colonel Leonard Wood and a group of
Rough Riders, who were busily intrenching. At the same moment
Stephen Crane came up with "Jimmy" Hare, the man who has made the
Russian-Japanese War famous. Crane walked to the crest and stood
there as sharply outlined as a semaphore, observing the enemy's
lines, and instantly bringing upon himself and us the fire of many
Mausers. With every one else, Wood was crouched below the crest and
shouted to Crane to lie down. Crane, still standing, as though to
get out of ear-shot, moved away, and Wood again ordered him to lie
down.
"You're drawing the fire on these men," Wood commanded. Although the
heat - it was the 1st of July in the tropics - was terrific, Crane wore
a long India rubber rain-coat and was smoking a pipe. He appeared as
cool as though he were looking down from a box at a theatre. I knew
that to Crane, anything that savored of a pose was hateful, so, as I
did not want to see him killed, I called, "You're not impressing any
one by doing that, Crane." As I hoped he would, he instantly dropped
to his knees. When he crawled over to where we lay, I explained, "I
knew that would fetch you," and he grinned, and said, "Oh, was that
it?"
A captain of the cavalry came up to Wood and asked permission to
withdraw his troop from the top of the hill to a trench forty feet
below the one they were in. "They can't possibly live where they are
now," he explained, "and they're doing no good there, for they can't
raise their heads to fire.
