Trooper Tales — page 81: what you’re looking at

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

The Wooing of Benito. 73 thought of vengeance that moment, but, oh, how it throbbed and burned! It was not long after that when Silk Redmond kicked his foot against a big bag of silver pesos as he hastened down the trail. He whistled softly and marveled. The cavalryman had not been paid for two months, but, strangely enough, the idea did not occur to Redmond to buy bottles of rum, by which he might make himself for- ever solid with his fellow troopers. He was not an old enough cavalryman for that. Rapidly the tall trooper trotted down the trail. Indis- tinctly among the shadows and moonbeams ahead Silk Redmond saw a dark form creeping slowly toward the village. Softly he followed, clinging to the bag of silver. Was it a sob that he faintly heard above the splashing of the Corizel? Anyway, the tall trooper forgot that taps would sound in a half hour and that cavalrymen are sup- posed to be in their bunks when the bugle notes are ended. He disregarded the stern order about entering the town, and cautiously followed the dark figure to the shabbiest of all shacks in the poverty district of Corizel— followed him through the very lurking-places of the noi- some la viruela. And at last Silk Redmond saw Benito push open the door of his dingy hut and disappear. Then the big cavalryman heard a piteous sound. It was the weeping of a man whose heart was breaking— poor, harmless Benito! It. was a queer moment for Trooper Redmond. There was no light but that of the moon within the shack, and Comichdooks (CO)