Trooper Tales — page 225: what you’re looking at

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

The Fever’s Fifth Man. 209 He gave me his last month’s pay. Fogarty was getting hot, and the nurse pushed me away. | “Keep the hat you got on, Kid.” I could barely hear his voice. His face was not very red now. How I wished.he could see the pain inside of me for him. “Keep the hat you got on, Kid. I'll get another if I don’t croak.” The doctor hung around Fogarty’s cot the next night. The nurse had drawn a chair close to him. I held a lan- tern near. The rain clouds were venting themselves out- side. “Watch out for Mint Julep, Kid,’ mumbled poor Fo- garty. He was not looking at me. His eyes stared at the sleeping flies on top of the tent. His eyelids were far apart. “They'll be good friends—Julep and the Kid—both dam good fellows. . . . Nope—not drinking a thing —sworn off—ask the Kid. Oh, I forgot; the Kid’s gone home to his mother—got sick, you know—nice little chap, the Kid—make a good soldier. Gone home—way up North—to his mother.” | The nurse fanned him. His eyes still stared at the sleeping flies. The nurse knew then that Fogarty was picked out for a fifth man. Silently she fanned him and watched. Not long after that Fogarty was mustered out of the service. And all this is to show how I peered under the veneer, which environment made, and saw a great, warm heart. GOMiIGOOOKSEGO