Soldiers of Fortune | Page 3

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SOLDIERS OF FORTUNE
BY RICHARD HARDING DAVIS
TO IRENE AND DANA GIBSON

SOLDIERS OF FORTUNE
I
``It is so good of you to come early,'' said Mrs. Porter, as Alice
Langham entered the drawing-room. ``I want to ask a favor of you. I'm
sure you won't mind. I would ask one of the debutantes, except that
they're always so cross if one puts them next to men they don't know
and who can't help them, and so I thought I'd just ask you, you're so
good-natured. You don't mind, do you?''
``I mind being called good-natured,'' said Miss Langham, smiling.

``Mind what, Mrs. Porter?'' she asked.
``He is a friend of George's,'' Mrs. Porter explained, vaguely. ``He's a
cowboy. It seems he was very civil to George when he was out there
shooting in New Mexico, or Old Mexico, I don't remember which. He
took George to his hut and gave him things to shoot, and all that, and
now he is in New York with a letter of introduction. It's just like
George. He may be a most impossible sort of man, but, as I said to Mr.
Porter, the people I've asked can't complain, because I don't know
anything more about him than they do. He called to-day when I was out
and left his card and George's letter of introduction, and as a man had
failed me for to-night, I just thought I would kill two birds with one
stone, and ask him to fill his place, and he's here. And, oh, yes,'' Mrs.
Porter added, ``I'm going to put him next to you, do you mind?''
``Unless he wears leather leggings and long spurs I shall mind very
much,'' said Miss Langham.
``Well, that's very nice of you,'' purred Mrs. Porter, as she moved away.
``He may not be so bad, after all; and I'll put Reginald King on your
other side, shall I?'' she asked, pausing and glancing back.
The look on Miss Langham's face, which had been one of amusement,
changed consciously, and she smiled with polite acquiescence.
``As you please, Mrs. Porter,'' she answered. She raised her eyebrows
slightly. ``I am, as the politicians say, `in the hands of my friends.' ''
``Entirely too much in the hands of my friends,'' she repeated, as she
turned away. This was the twelfth time during that same winter that she
and Mr. King had been placed next to one another at dinner, and it had
passed beyond the point when she could say that it did not matter what
people thought as long as she and he understood. It had now reached
that stage when she was not quite sure that she understood either him or
herself. They had known each other for a very long time; too long, she
sometimes thought, for them ever to grow to know each other any
better. But there was always the chance that he had another side, one
that had not disclosed itself, and which she could not discover in the

strict social environment in which they both lived. And she was the
surer of this because she had once seen him when he did not know that
she was near, and he had been so different that it had puzzled her and
made her wonder if she knew the real Reggie King at all.
It was at a dance at a studio, and some French pantomimists gave a
little play. When it was over, King sat in the corner talking to one of
the Frenchwomen, and while he waited on her he was laughing at her
and at her efforts to speak English. He was telling her how to say
certain phrases and not telling her correctly, and she suspected this and
was accusing him of it, and they were rhapsodizing and exclaiming
over certain delightful places and dishes of which they both knew in
Paris with the enthusiasm of two children. Miss Langham saw him off
his guard for the first time and instead of a somewhat bored and clever
man of the world, he appeared as sincere and interested as a boy.
When he joined her, later, the same evening, he was as entertaining