The two men dodged, and eyed each other guiltily. The sergeant gazed
at the buffalo-robe portieres with wide-opened eyes. Cahill's hands
dropped from the region of his ears, and fell flat upon the counter.

When Miss Mary Cahill pushed aside the portieres Sergeant Clancey, of
G Troop, was showing her father the mechanism of the new regulation-
revolver. He apparently was having some difficulty with the cylinder,
for his face was red. Her father was eying the gun with the critical
approval of an expert.

"Father," said Miss Cahill petulantly, "why didn't you answer? Where
is the blue stationery--the sort Major Ogden always buys? He's
waiting."

The eyes of the post-trader did not wander from the gun before him.
"Next to the blank books, Mame," he said. "On the second shelf."

Miss Cahill flashed a dazzling smile at the big sergeant, and
whispered, so that the officer in the room behind her might not
overhear, "Is he trying to sell you Government property, dad? Don't
you touch it. Sergeant, I'm surprised at you tempting my poor
father." She pulled the two buffalo-robes close around her neck so
that her face only showed between them. It was a sweet, lovely face,
with frank, boyish eyes.

"When the major's gone, sergeant," she whispered, "bring your gun
around my side of the store and I'll buy it from you."

The sergeant nodded in violent assent, laughing noiselessly and