Trooper Tales — page 253: what you’re looking at

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

A Soldier and a Man. _ 237 ingly, said nothing further, and arrived at this conclu- sion : “Arden is a soldier because some white woman threw him down. He is eating his heart out because he landed hard and cannot forget.” The conjecture was a safe one, but the soldier did not guess that the dog which the woman had called “Palto” and the trooper who smoked cigarettes and drank black coffee while other troopers slept, were both embodied in the one being, who-was scrubbing the mud of Porto Rican hills from the hocks of the white-faced. “Cease grooming!’’ shouted the top-sergeant. The features of Trooper Arden were a study of grimness as he walked up the trail toward the quarters. That even- ing Arden smiled for the first time in twenty-four hours when he saw Eulalie cuddling cosily into the mane of his very bad and very bossy troop horse. ‘The unkillable revealed a forbearance which was startling and unutter- able. A half hour later when the man and the maiden walked out of the corral toward the trail, Palto whinnied a farewell like the soldier and gentleman he was. “Adios,” smiled back the little red maiden, but Palto did not notice since he had just unjointed several lengths of aft quarters, and landed a scientific double hook against the high-sounding ribs of his neighbor. The sole offence of the neighbor was that he came within reach. Palto always insisted upon having an ample share of the picket line. No Spanish words were spoken as the two walked CONIC DOOKKS CORN