Philip Dru: Administrator | Page 7

get the
best of me. You shouldn't have carried me, Philip, but you know I understand and
appreciate. How are your eyes now?"
"Oh, they'll be all right," he reiterated, but when he took his hand from them to look at
her, and the light beat upon the inflamed lids, he winced.
After eating some of the fruit of the prickly pear, which they found too hot and sweet to
be palatable, Philip suggested at half after five that they should move on. They arose, and
the young officer started to lead the way, peeping from beneath his hand. First he
stumbled over a mesquite bush directly in his path, and next he collided with a giant
cactus standing full in front of him.
"It's no use, Gloria," he said at last. "I can't see the way. You must lead."
"All right, Philip, I will do the best I can."
For answer, he merely took her hand, and together they started to retrace their steps. Over
the trackless waste of alkali and sagebrush they trudged. They spoke but little but when
they did, their husky, dust-parched voices made a mockery of their hopeful words.
Though the horizon seemed bounded by a low range of hills, the girl instinctively turned
her steps westward, and entered a draw. She rounded one of the hills, and just as the sun
was sinking, came upon the valley in which their horses were peacefully grazing.
They mounted and followed the dim trail along which they had ridden that morning,
reaching the hacienda about dark. With many shakings of the hand, voluble protestations
of joy at their delivery from the desert, and callings on God to witness that the girl had
performed a miracle, the haciendado gave them food and cooling drinks, and with gentle
insistence, had his servants, wife and daughters show them to their rooms. A poultice of
Mexican herbs was laid across Philip's eyes, but exhausted as he was he could not sleep
because of the pain they caused him.
In the morning, Gloria was almost her usual self, but Philip could see but faintly. As early
as was possible they started for Fort Magruder. His eyes were bandaged, and Gloria held
the bridle of his horse and led him along the dusty trail. A vaquero from the ranch went
with them to show the way.
Then came days of anxiety, for the surgeon at the Post saw serious trouble ahead for
Philip. He would make no definite statement, but admitted that the brilliant young
officer's eyesight was seriously menaced.
Gloria read to him and wrote for him, and in many ways was his hands and eyes. He in
turn talked to her of the things that filled his mind. The betterment of man was an

ever-present theme with them. It pleased him to trace for her the world's history from its
early beginning when all was misty tradition, down through the uncertain centuries of
early civilization to the present time.
He talked with her of the untrustworthiness of the so-called history of to-day, although
we had every facility for recording facts, and he pointed out how utterly unreliable it was
when tradition was the only means of transmission. Mediocrity, he felt sure, had
oftentimes been exalted into genius, and brilliant and patriotic exclamations attributed to
great men, were never uttered by them, neither was it easy he thought, to get a true
historic picture of the human intellectual giant. As a rule they were quite human, but
people insisted upon idealizing them, consequently they became not themselves but what
the popular mind wanted them to be.
He also dwelt on the part the demagogue and the incompetents play in retarding the
advancement of the human race. Some leaders were honest, some were wise and some
were selfish, but it was seldom that the people would be led by wise, honest and unselfish
men.
"There is always the demagogue to poison the mind of the people against such a man," he
said, "and it is easily done because wisdom means moderation and honesty means truth.
To be moderate and to tell the truth at all times and about all matters seldom pleases the
masses."
Many a long day was spent thus in purely impersonal discussions of affairs, and though
he himself did not realize it, Gloria saw that Philip was ever at his best when viewing the
large questions of State, rather than the narrower ones within the scope of the military
power.
The weeks passed swiftly, for the girl knew well how to ease the young Officer's chafing
at uncertainty and inaction. At times, as they droned away the long hot summer
afternoons under the heavily leafed fig trees in the little garden of the Strawn bungalow,
he would become impatient at his