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"I'm afther kickin' him out, sor," explained Muldoon, and, upon the lieutenant's departure, was seen retreating in the direction of the cook-tent, with the meager and expectant Scrap inconspicuously at his heels. He went to sleep at taps in Muldoon's tent, curled up inside Muldoon's cartridge-belt; but at reveille the next morning the sergeant missed him.
Lizzie Bean, in the cook-tent, was screaming in a queer and stifled way. The rain descended in torrents before the cabin door. E'er Laura could plunge into it, Jess dragged her back and slammed the door. "Don't be a goose, Laura!" she cried. "She she Something is the matter with Liz," declared Laura. "Of course not!" "I tell you, I heard her. And there's the dog barking again."
"She is perfectly satisfied with herself as she is. Humph! Lucky she is satisfied, I s'pose, for nobody else could be!" After their bath the girls got into their gymnasium costumes. Then they clamored for breakfast, and had Mrs. Morse not appeared just then there certainly would have been a riot at the cook-tent.
What does he think this is a turkish bath?" The Barnacle began to bark vociferously, all of a sudden. Lizzie, up at the lighted cook-tent, squealed. Up rose the boys with a great whoop. "Go for it!" yelled Lance. "Sick 'im!" which seems to be the approved way to set a dog on anything living. Barnacle was barking his foolish head off.
The perfume of coffee presently sifted abroad, and the table was brought out and set under the evening sky. Lockers gave up their store of bread and pastry made by the capable hands of the camp housekeeper. The woman, their guest, sat watching him move from cook-tent to table, and Puttany lounged on the dog-kennel, whittling a stick.
Big Medicine went down to the creek for the second time that evening to wash away the marks of strife, and when he returned he went straight to bed without a word to anyone. Patsy was gone, no man knew whither, and the cook-tent was as nearly wrecked as might be.
The rain beat upon the two girls in a fashion to almost take their breath away. Never had they been so beaten by the elements. They staggered, almost fell, clung together, and then bent their heads to the downpour and pressed on. The flickering lantern still illuminated the cook-tent. The awning was dropped and the canvas heaved and slatted against the poles.
"Why, Lizzie!" said Laura, in surprise at least, in apparent surprise! "You surely don't want to do all the work yourself?" "I'd ruther," responded the girl, ungraciously. "You gals are in my way in the tent." Now this, of course, was ridiculous. It could mean but one thing: Liz was anxious to be alone in the cook-tent. And why? Laura, however, merely said: "Oh! very well.
She's odd; but she is quite as quick of hearing as the next person." "Aw, you're too particular, Laura," drawled Lil. But she stood a little in awe of Mother Wit. They joined Mrs. Morse and filed into the cook-tent. Lizzie's flushed face appeared behind the steaming biscuits and a big platter of ham and eggs. They did not really know how hungry they were until they sat down to these viands.
"Why ain't that loafer in the parade where he belongs?" demanded Braddock, glaring red-eyed at the retreating David. "How should I know? Ask Colonel Grand. He appears to be giving directions nowadays," said his wife bitterly. "Well, what do you want of me? Let's have it, please. I'm busy." "Not out here, Tom. Come over to the cook-tent." Braddock glanced at her sharply.
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