From the Ranks | Page 5

lady-killer. You must admit that he had a
pretty tough four years of it up there at that cussed old Indian graveyard,
and it's only natural he should enjoy getting here, where there are
theatres and concerts and operas and dances and dinners--"
"Yes, dances and dinners and daughters,--all delightful, I know, but no
excuse for a man's neglecting his manifest duty, as he is doing and has
been ever since we got here. Any other time the colonel would have

straightened him out; but no use trying it now, when both women in his
household are as big fools about the man as anybody in town,--bigger,
unless I'm a born idiot." And Chester rose excitedly.
"I suppose he had Miss Renwick pretty much to himself to-night?" he
presently demanded, looking angrily and searchingly at his junior, as
though half expecting him to dodge the question.
"Oh, yes. Why not? It's pretty evident she would rather dance and be
with him than with any one else: so what can a fellow do? Of course we
ask her to dance, and all that, and I think he wants us to; but I cannot
help feeling rather a bore to her, even if she is only eighteen, and there
are plenty of pleasant girls in the garrison who don't get any too much
attention, now we're so near a big city, and I like to be with them."
"Yes, and it's the right thing for you to do, youngster. That's one trait I
despise in Jerrold. When we were up there at the stockade two winters
ago, and Captain Gray's little girl was there, he hung around her from
morning till night, and the poor little thing fairly beamed and
blossomed with delight. Look at her now, man! He don't go near her.
He hasn't had the decency to take her a walk, a drive, or anything, since
we got here. He began, from the moment we came, with that gang in
town. He was simply devoted to Miss Beaubien until Alice Renwick
came; then he dropped her like a hot brick. By the Eternal, Rollins, he
hasn't gotten off with that old love yet, you mark my words. There's
Indian blood in her veins, and a look in her eye that makes me wriggle,
sometimes. I watched her last night at parade when she drove out here
with that copper-faced old squaw, her mother. For all her French and
Italian education and her years in New York and Paris, that girl's got a
wild streak in her somewhere. She sat there watching him as the
officers marched to the front, and then her, as he went up and joined
Miss Renwick; and there was a gleam of her white teeth and a flash in
her black eyes that made me think of the leap of a knife from the sheath.
Not but what 'twould serve him right if she did play him some devil's
trick. It's his own doing. Were any people out from town?" he suddenly
asked.
"Yes, half a dozen or so," answered Mr. Rollins, who was pulling off

his boots and inserting his feet into easy slippers, while old "Crusty"
tramped excitedly up and down the floor. "Most of them stayed out
here, I think. Only one team went back across the bridge."
"Whose was that?"
"The Suttons', I believe. Young Cub Sutton was out with his sister and
another girl."
"There's another damned fool!" growled Chester. "That boy has ten
thousand a year of his own, a beautiful home that will be his, a doting
mother and sister, and everything wealth can buy, and yet, by gad! he's
unhappy because he can't be a poor devil of a lieutenant, with nothing
but drills, debts, and rifle-practice to enliven him. That's what brings
him out here all the time. He'd swap places with you in a minute. Isn't
he very thick with Jerrold?"
"Oh, yes, rather. Jerrold entertains him a good deal."
"Which is returned with compound interest, I'll bet you. Mr. Jerrold
simply makes a convenience of him. He won't make love to his sister,
because the poor, rich, unsophisticated girl is as ugly as she is
ubiquitous. His majesty is fastidious, you see, and seeks only the caress
of beauty, and while he lives there at the Suttons' when he goes to town,
and dines and sleeps and smokes and wines there, and uses their box at
the opera-house, and is courted and flattered by the old lady because
dear Cubby worships the ground he walks on and poor Fanny Sutton
thinks him adorable, he turns his back on the girl at every dance
because she can't dance, and leaves her to you fellows who have a
conscience and some idea of decency. He gives all his devotions