We did so presently, and, after seeing that our patient was comfortable, Sally returned, wearing his uniform tunic. "How does this fit me?" she asked.
Steel looked angry, and I grew thoughtful. Nobody who knew her was, as a rule, astonished at Sally's actions, but she asked the question soberly, with no trace of mischief.
"Do you wish me to say that you would look well in anything?" I asked.
"I don't. You can tell lies enough when you trade horses," she answered tartly. "It's a plain question—how does this thing fit me?"
"Tolerably well," and I surveyed her critically. "It is a trifle large, but if you don't draw it in too much at the waist it wouldn't fit you badly. Are you going to turn police trooper, Sally?"
Miss Steel was not generally bashful, but she looked a trifle confused as she answered: "Don't ask any more fool questions."
I went out soon afterwards to overhaul a plow under a shed, and had spent considerable time over it, when Steel approached with a lantern. "Have you seen anything of Sally?" he asked.
"No," I answered carelessly. "What mischief has she been contriving now?"
"That's just what I'm anxious to know; that, and where the corporal's horse is," he said. "They're both missing, and Cotton's fast asleep. I"—and Steel used a few illegal expletives before he continued—"I can't find his uniform either."
"It must be somewhere. You can't have looked properly," I said; and Steel restrained himself with an effort.