Cut Bank pioneer press. [volume] (Cut Bank, Mont.) 1909-current, 1914-10-09

tectsi Lney call three ladderS nights
of stairs! Ha! That's Irish whis-
ky. and jolly fine. Want you to come
over and take tea this afternoon. I'm
going up presently to see the Harri-
gans. Thought I'd go around and do
the thing informally. Taken a fancy
to the old chap. He's a little bit of
all right. I'm no older than he is, but
look at the difference! Whisky and
soda, that's the racket. Not by the
tubful; just an ordinary half dozen a
day, and a dem climate thrown n"
Difference in training
Rot! It's the sized hat a man
years I'd give fifty guineas to see
the old fellow in action. But, | say;
recall the argument we had before you
went to PARISH"
Yes"
well, l win. Saw him bang across
the street this morning
Abbott muttered something.
What was that?"
Nothing"
Sounded like dem it. to me-"
Maybe it did"
Heard about him in PARISH
mo"
THE old boy had transferred his
regiment to a lonesome post in the
North to cool his blood. The young
ster took the next train to Paris. He
was there incognito for two weeks be-
fore they found him and bundled him
back. OF course. every one knows that
he is but a crazy lad who's had too
much freedom" The colonel emptied
his glass. Il feel dem sorry for Nora.
She's the right sort. But a woman
can't take a man by the scruff of his
neck and chuck him."
But / cam declared Abbott saw
agely.
Tut, tut! He'd eat you alive. Be
sides, you will find him too clever to
give you an opening. But he'll bear
watching. He's capable of putting her
on a train and running away with her.
Between you and me, I don't blame
him. What's the matter with sticking
the Barone on him? He's the best
man in southern Italy with foils and
broadswords. Sic 'em, Towser; sic
'em!" The old fire-eater chuckled.
The subject was extremely distaste-
full to the artist. The colonel, a rough
soldier, whose diplomacy had never
risen above the heights of clubbing
a recalcitrant hillman into submis-
sion, badly inferred that he under
stood the artists interest in the rose
OF the Harrigan family. He would
have liked to talk more in regard to
the interloper, but it would have been
sheer folly. The colonel, in his blum
dering way, would have brought up
the subject again at tea-time and put
everybody on edge. He had, unfor-
tunately for his friends, a reputation
other than that of a soldier; he posed
as a peacemaker. He saw trouble
where none existed, and the way he
patched up imaginary quarrels would
have strained the patience of Job. Still,
every one loved him, though they lived
In mortal fear of him. So Abbott came
about quickly and sailed against the
wind.
BY the way" he said, II wish you
would let me sketch that servant OF
yours. He's got a profile like a me.
dalton. Where did you pick him up?"
in the Hills. He's a Sikh, and o
1rst-class fighting man. Didn't know
that you went for faces"
Not as a usual thing. Just want II
for my own use. How does he keer
his beard combed that wayT
I've never bothered myself about
the curl Of his whiskers. Are my
clothes laid out? Luggage attended
to? Guns shipshape? That's enough
for me. Some day you have got tc
go out there with me-"
Never shot a gun in all my life.
don't know which end to hold at my
shoulder"
Teach you quick enough. Every
mans a born hunter. Rao will have
tigers eating out of your hand. He's
a marvel; saved my hide more than
once. Funny thing; you can't show
'em that you're grateful. Lose caste
if you do. | rather miss it. Get the
East in your blood and you'll never
get 1t out. Fascinating! But my liver
turned over once too many times. Ha!
Some n coming up to buy a picture
The step outside was firm and un
wearied by the climb. The door opened
unceremoniously, and Courtlandt came
in. He stared at the colonel and the
colonel returned the stare.
Oakley Webster! Well, / say, this
globe goes on shrinking every day!'
cried Courtlandt.
The two pumped hands energetical
ly, sizing each other up critically
Then they sat down and shot ques
tions, while Abbott looked on Devil
dered. Elephants and tigers and chit
tabs and wild boar and quail-runnins
and strange cultural names; welterin,
nights in the jurs.ea, Pressing morn