The train was starting. The major came bustling in.
“Well, good-by,” said Roeder, holding out his hand to Kate.
“Good-by,” she cried. “Don't go back up the gulch.”
“Oh,” he said, reassuringly, “don't you worry about me, my—don't worry. The gulch is a nice, quiet place. An' you know what I told you about th' ranks all bein' full. Good-by.” The train was well under way. He sprang off, and stood on the platform waving his handkerchief.
“Well, Kate,” said the major, seating himself down comfortably and adjusting his travelling cap, “did you find the Western type?”
“I don't quite know,” said she, slowly. “But I have made the discovery that a human soul is much the same wherever you meet it.”
“Dear me! You haven't been meeting a soul, have you?” the major said, facetiously, unbuckling his travelling-bag. “I'll tell Jack.”
“No, I'll tell Jack. And he'll feel quite as badly as I do to think that I could do nothing for its proper adjustment.”
The major's face took on a look of comprehension.
“Was that the soul,” he asked, “that just came down in the carriage with us?”