"We are," agreed Ian heartily. "And you've been a good friend to my country, too."
"Well, I've only done my duty and not half as much as I'd like," said the American giant, sitting on the camp bed, which creaked plaintively under his weight. "But for the moment I want to talk to you about my private affairs." He looked round the log hut and through the little window to the hospital beyond. "It seems an unsuitable time and place for me to worry you, when you've been torn up, root and stock. I appreciate your troubles, but I've no choice but to worry you a moment with my own affairs."
"By all means. We part soon, and you never know how long it'll be before----"
"Exactly. You've hit the spot, Count, I may as well say, without any more beating about the bush, that I'm interested in Miss Minnie Burton."
"Ah!"
"Deeply interested. I suppose she told you that we saw quite a little of each other when she was in Warsaw during that December advance."
"Oh, yes," said Ian, putting politeness before veracity.
"My interest has grown, deepened, since then. She's a real fine girl, is Miss Minnie Burton, and comes of a fine old stock. I want to marry her." Here his honest eyes met his friend's and his honest, broad face became redder than ever. "And I want to shoot her out of this danger in my trailer."
"As to marrying her, I'm not her guardian," said Ian. "Her brother----"
"On the high seas. And can't give opinions, one way or the other right here."