MAJOR MARTT’S FRIEND.
EAST PATTEN was one of the quietest places in the world. The indisposition of a family horse or cow was cause for animated general conversation, and the displaying of a new poster or prospectus on the post-office door was the signal for a spirited gathering of citizens.
Why, therefore, Major Martt had spent the whole of three successive leaves-of-absence at East Patten, where he hadn’t a relative, and where no other soldier lived, no one could imagine. Even professional newsmakers never assigned any reason for it, for although their vigorous and experienced imaginations were fully capable of forming some plausible theory on the subject of the major’s fondness for East Patten, they shrank from making public the results of any such labors.
It was perfectly safe to circulate some purely original story about any ordinary citizen, but there was no knowing how a military man might treat such a matter when it reached his ears, as it was morally sure to do.
Live military men had not been seen in East Patten since the Revolutionary War, three-quarters of a century before the villagers first saw Major Martt; and such soldiers as had been revealed to East Patten through the medium of print were as dangerously touchy as the hair-triggers of their favorite weapons.
EAST PATTEN WAS ONE OF THE QUIETEST PLACES IN THE WORLD.
So East Patten let the major’s private affairs alone, and was really glad to see the major in person. There was a scarcity of men at East Patten—of interesting men, at least,