Sarde was not very clever. An Ontario farm, a military college, and some forlorn outposts on the frontier had not completed him in worldly wisdom. With a lieutenant's pay, to marry on the strength of a pretty photograph gave him distinction in a world of fools. By running into debt, he managed to send an engagement ring, and afterward that sealskin cap and coat, cut as the fashion was, to fit over a bustle. All that I knew, from my chum Buckie who sent me a letter of gossip from Fort French. Later, Sarde sent the girl a hundred dollars, a month's pay, and got himself transferred to Fort Qu'Appelle within reach of civilization.
For her part Miss Violet developed lumbago in the left leg, so that Loco had to engage a Chinese servant. Released from housework, she decided that her mission in life was to help Loco with his invention, for which she must prepare by spending a year at college. Thus Loco was induced to borrow sixty dollars for her fare down East—"spoiling the Egyptians" she called that, and Joe raised forty dollars. "All's fair in love," said she.
Heart-broken, she left old Loco to his fate, boarding the train at Helena in floods of tears. "I cried my eyes out." By the time she reached Fargo, she cheered up. "Can't be helped," said she, and took the train for Winnipeg. There, feeling much better, she bought a ticket for Troy. A stage sleigh thence would take her to Fort Qu'Appelle, and she wired Sarde the date of her arrival. By the time I met her outside Winnipeg on board the west-bound train, she had recovered from her late bereavement. "It's all in a lifetime," said she.
"It's love at long range," said I. "The adoring swine sends you a first-class ticket for Cupid's express, saying, 'Come to my arms, regardless of expense.' But, my dear, why Sarde?"
"And why not?"
"There's me."
"You? You're only an enlisted man, but my Cyril is an officer."
"Comfort me," I squeezed her, "or I'll scream."
My attention wandered to Rich Mixed, to Saunders who grinned and winked, to the few passengers and the passing landscape. But Miss Burrows, to bring me back to the main thing, herself, produced a grubby hand while she talked palmistry, bidding me read her fortune.
I told her, between yawns that the paws of little cats are much alike, useful for mousing.