Trooper Tales — page 261: what you’re looking at

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

A Soldier and a Man. © 245 At last the night came when Trooper Arden muttered many strange things and forgot to smoke. The troop surgeon looked at the soldier’s wound, and in the same breath he -cursed the tropics. He wondered what the patient meant in mumbling continually about a dog whose name was “Palto,” but the soldiers who stood near thought that their fellow was dreaming of his white-faced troop horse. x 2 ‘oo se * * * * If you ever get a bad cut while you are in the tropics, © set your face toward the north at once. If you are a sol- dier, and your troop commander does not advise you to take a furlough, he is either heartless or inexperienced. Flesh wounds do not heal on white men or horses in the tropics. All troop commanders and surgeons know this now, but they didn’t know it in Arden’s outfit until the night that the patient mumbled incoherently and ceased smoking cigarettes. And when the bit of knowledge was forcibly thrust upon the troop surgeon, he cursed the tropics, instead of himself. At the same time, he did not think that the patient was in a fit condition to be moved now. The next morning Trooper Arden opened his eyes, and wondered how he had happened to sleep so long. He would have moved his head, but there was something wrong with the muscles of his neck. He rolled a cigar- ette with his right hand, and the room orderly struck a match for him. The troop surgeon entered at this mo- ment, CONNIE DOOKS.CO