a reflecting sense of justice.

"Then they ain't no call to go gunnin', and wastin' Guv'nment
powder on ducks instead o' Injins."

"Thet's so," said the girl thoughtfully. "Wonder ef Guv'nment pays
for them frocks the Kernel's girls went cavortin' round Logport in
last Sunday--they looked like a cirkis."

"Like ez not the old Kernel gets it outer contracts--one way or
another. WE pay for it all the same," he added gloomily.

"Jest the same ez if they were MY clothes," said the girl, with a
quick, fiery, little laugh, "ain't it? Wonder how they'd like my
sayin' that to 'em when they was prancin' round, eh, Jim?"

But her companion was evidently unprepared for this sweeping
feminine deduction, and stopped it with masculine promptitude.

"Look yer--instead o' botherin' your head about what the Fort girls
wear, you'd better trot along a little more lively. It's late
enough now."

"But these darned boots hurt like pizen," said the girl, limping.
"They swallowed a lot o' water over the tops while I was wadin'
down there, and my feet go swashin' around like in a churn every
step."

"Lean on me, baby," he returned, passing his arm around her waist,
and dropping her head smartly on his shoulder. "Thar!" The act