Montpelier examiner. [volume] (Montpelier, Idaho) 1895-1937, 1915-07-09
CHAPTER vI--contInusd.

Pitchoune. whose eyes had followed
the cat out of sight, sprang upon his
master and seemed quite ready for
the new departure.
Il shall at least have you" Sabron
said. at will be your first campaign.
We shall have some famous runs and
! shall introduce you to a camel and
make you acquainted with several
donkeys, not to speak of the historic
Arab steeds. You will see. my friend
that there are other animals besides
yourself in creation"
A telegram for mon capitaine."
Brunei came in with the blue envelope
which Sabron tore open.
You win take with you neither horses
nor dogs.
It was an order from the minister OF
war. just such a one as was sent to
some half-dozen other young officers.
all of whom, no doubt. felt more or
less discounted.
Sabron twisted the telegram, put it
in the fireplace and lighted his ciga-
rette with it. watching Pitchoune who,
finding himself a comfortable corner
La Inc AEIuCud1IS Hhu SclIlou uOWh AOA
a nap.
So" nodded the young man aloud.
II shall not even have Pitchoune."
He smoked, musing In the rigid dis
cipline of his soldiers life he was used
to obedience. His softened eyes, how
ever, and his nervous fingers as they
pulled at his mustache. showed that
the command had touched him.
What shall do with you, old fell
low?"
Although Sabron's voice was low.
the dog, whose head was down upon
his paws, turned his bright brown
eyes on his master with so much con-
fidence and affection that it completed
the work. Sabron walked across the
floor, smoking, the spurs on his heels
clanking. the light shining on his bril-
liant boots and on his uniform. He
was splendid-looking man with race
and breeding. and he combined with
his masculine force the gentleness Of
woman.
They want me to be lonely" he
thought. All that the chiefs consider
is the soldier-not the man-even the
companionship of my dog is denied
me. What do they think l am going
to do out there in the long eastern
evenings?" He reflected what doei
the world expect an uncompanionet
wanderer to do?" There are man,
things and the less thought abou
them. the better.
"A letter for Monsieur lie Capitaine
Brunei returned with note which h,
| az Hu h,
chose in his little brain to imagine
; Brunei an intruder, sprang from tn
chair like lightning, rushed at tn
servant. seized the leg of his pants
: looms and began to worry them. grow
ing, Brunei regarding him with adors
ton. Sabron had not thought alou
4 the last words of the telegram. whic
: he had used to light his cigarette.
Nor viii IL be necessary 10 TAX
a personal servant The indIgenes ar
capable performances
r AS he took the letter from Brunei
3 salver he said CURLY:
Il am ordered to Algiers and | sha
not take horses nor Pitchoune"
The dog. at mention Of his nam
set Brunet's leg free and stood quie
n his head lifted
Nor you either. mon brave Br
= net" Sabron put his hand on b
= servants shoulder, the first familiarii
he had ever shown a man who serve
him with devotion, and who woul
have given his life to save his ma
ter's. Those said the officer curtI
ARE the orders from headquarters, ar
the least said about them the better
The rudy cheek Of the servai
turned pale. He mechanically touch'
his forehead.
"Bien. mon Capitaine," he mu
INJURED. with q little catch in his vote
He stood at attention, then wheel,
and without being dismissed, stalk
out of the room.
Pitchoune did not follow He /
manned immovable like little dog c
from bronze; he understood-wl
shall say-how much of the convers
ton? Sabron threw away his Gig
rettes then read his letter by the ma
tlepiece. leaning his arm upon H.
read slowly. He had broken the se
slowly. II was the first letter he b
ever seen in this handwriting. 1t "
written in French and ran thus:
Aonsieur-My aunt wishes me to q
you IL you viii come 10 Us for a lie
musicale tomorrow afternoon We ho
you viii be free. and l hope. she add
that yon VIII bring PitchOune. Not Il