Trooper Tales — page 256: what you’re looking at

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

240 A Soldier and a Man. all these things, and he was very thoughtful as he paced up and down. In truth, he had lived his life. He was only a soldier now. He feared nothing, not even himself. He did not fear Fate. Why should he since Fate had done its very worst by him? . . . Still he could pity! And that evening down at the stables poor Eulalie forgot all her woes, because the soldier smiled often; and while he was near her the hunger went out from her heart. A great and good thing is pity. Manrique, the ox-driver, knew it not as he watched the man and the maiden from a shadow. One morning a few minutes after reveille, the troopers lounging in front of the cavalry quarters stood erect and yelled. The pay-master with a volunteer guard was ap- proaching on the Manati trail. That night the bunks were changed into gaming tables, and many bottles of white rum were sold at the café, and much money changed hands. Trooper Arden could not lose that night, but the sol- diers who sat with him could; and if it ever occurred to them that Arden was “working a system,” they did not say so, for Arden was a respected man in the troop. It seemed that night as if Fate were trying to palliate the harshness of her former dealings with this man. His pile grew big, but by his aspect you would have imagined that he was losing steadily. He was the same mystery. One by one the losers made resolutions for the next pay-day, and dropped out of the game. And when there =Gomichbooks;com