Trooper Tales — page 129: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

A Soldier of Misfortune. ey, start near some army post, and sell tobacco and cigarettes and other things the soldiers liked. When no one was looking Duffie would show his senora the great roll of American money, with which he would buy her warm clothing and lots of nice things in New York. There would be no cold or suffering for Euphrasie after that ! When the hammock shook with the maiden’s coughing, as the transport tumbled along the Northern Carolina coast, Duffie would wrap his big, yellow-lined cavalry overcoat more closely about her throat, and his face be- came more haggard and white, but there was naught but tenderness in his eyes now. Meanwhile, the gale grew noisy, and ice thickened on the hurricane deck. Two days’ run from New York, and there was a dark flush upon E\uphrasie’s cheek. Her forehead was burning, and the soldiers stepped softly in the hold. And in the night the Porto Rican maiden clung fast to her husband’s hand, and murmured words about Corizel and love. There was a reddish glow in her dark eyes, like a flame shining through a black density of smoke. They were turned immovably upon the white, horrified face of her husband, and she spoke his name. : About the time the ice-crusted ship was sighted off the Atlantic Highlands two fever convalescents died of pneumonia in the forward hold—died within sight of the land of their soldier dreams. : And while the transport steamed around Sandy Hook the hand of the Porto Rican maiden slipped from Duffie’s erasp, CONNIE NOOO KS COA