His gloves seemed neat, his boots
equally neat, his general appearance immaculate as that of the young
lady whom he approached. I imagine it was the same swift male jealousy
which affected both Belknap and myself as we saw Gordon Orme!
"Yes, there is your friend, the Englishman," said Belknap rather
bitterly.
"I meet him everywhere," I answered. "The thing is simply uncanny. What
is he doing out here?"
"We are taking him out to Laramie with us. He has letters to Colonel
Meriwether, it seems. Cowles, what do you know about that man?"
"Nothing," said I, "except that he purports to come from the English
Army."
"I wish that he had stayed in the English Army, and not come bothering
about ours. He's prowling about every military Post he can get into."
"With a special reference to Army officers born in the South?" I looked
Belknap full in the eye.
"There's something in that," he replied. "I don't like the look of it.
These are good times for every man to attend to his own business."
As Orme stood chatting with the young woman, both Belknap and I turned
away. A moment later I ran across my former friend, Mandy McGovern. In
her surprise she stopped chewing tobacco, when her eyes fell on me, but
she quickly came to shake me by the hand.
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