Argosy All-Story Weekly, October 7, 1922 — page 81: what you’re looking at

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

A NEW GIRL IN TOWN. acter that the colonel had fallen into the habit of relating these stories of his ca- reer. Diantha loved them. They were always told in the colonel’s plush-furnished library—a room, previous to Diantha’s ad- vent, as garish and cheerless as an old- fashioned hotel room. But she had worked a miracle in it by the simple expedients of bringing in a lamp with a mellow shade and insisting on having a fire always burning in the corner fireplace. They sat in front of this, and the colonel would apparently get so absorbed in his story that Sutliffe could give himself up to watching Diantha’s face without danger of detection. On one such occasion the colonel began: “When I was a youngster it used to make me sore that I couldn’t be in two places at once. I missed the Nile expedition under Sir Garnet Wolseley because I got mixed up in the Riel rebellion in northern Canada.” “One life wasn’t enough for you,” mur- mured Sutliffe. The colonel laughed, and went on: “I joined a regiment of Canadian militia, and was sent up to Fort Edmonton. All the white settlers for miles around were crowd- ed into a sort of stockade there in daily expectation of an attack by redskins. Lord! How those poor wretches carried on when we came marching up from the south! Ready to fall at our feet, you might say.” “That seems to have been your role through life, colonel!” laughed Sutliffe. “As a matter of fact, they were not in the slightest danger. There never was an attack. All the natives were busy down the river. After a couple of months loafing around the stockade, getting into mischief— Um! Ha! Where was I? ‘Two companies of us were sent down the Saskatchewan to reénforce the garrison at Fort Pitt. Our commander—I forget his name—disap- pointed old captain of regulars, you know the type, they call ’em hard-boiled now- adays. Lord! Managed to make his Hfe a_ burden, though.” “Trust you for that,” murmured Sut- liffe. “We floated down the river in two big batteaux—sturgeon-heads, they called them. How we despised him!. 227 A lot of former bank clerks and counter Jumpers, and this stupid old cod. The only man in the outfit who knew beans when the bag was open was young John Fraser, a half-breed, our pilot.. Not the sort of half- breed you read about—a wise young fellow with a steady eye. He and I get to be pretty good pals. “Frazer was a wizard at river work,” the colonel went on, “ but old know-it-all looked upon him as a ‘ nigger,’ and would not take his advice. Consequently we di- vided our time in being hung up on gravel bars in the river and in loafing ashore while the boats were being mended. Old Who’s- this—the name we gave him among our- selves wouldn’t be suitable for a lady’s ears —cursed and swore from morning till night and issued foolish orders which couldn’t be carried out.” ‘“ It must be fierce to have to take orders from a@ man like that!” put in Sutliffe. ‘Well, there are ways of getting back,” said the colonel with a twinkle. ‘ That’s what I’m coming to. Fraser and I staged a little comedy for his benefit. One day when they were mending the boats Fraser passed me a pair of buckskin pants and a birch bark package of a certain kind of red earth, and I slipped into. the bush with them. There I changed my clothes, rubbed the red into my skin and stuck feathers in my hair. Then I made my way down river to a point they had to pass and waited, hidden.” At the critical point of his stories the colonel would always pause to relight his cigar or to take a fresh one. ‘“‘ Well, what happened?” demanded his hearers. “Oh, pretty soon I heard old What’s-his- name bellowing upstream, and the two boats drifted into sight with all the bank clerks pulling a different stroke at the sweeps, like young ladies on the park lake. I waited until they were directly under me; then I ran out on the low bluff, gave an ear-split- ting yell, danced a few steps of the war dance, and shot my gun over their heads.” The colonel roared with laughter at the recollection. ‘“‘ Fraser told me,” he went on, “ that his nibs fell down flat in the boat, screech- comicboooks C©