As Jen vanished into the night a moment after, she heard a voice calling
--not Corporal Galna's--"Sergeant Gellatly, Sergeant Gellatly!" She
supposed it was Inspector Jules, but she would not turn back now. Her
work was done.

A half-hour later Corporal Galna confided to Private Waugh that Sergeant
Gellatly was too damned pretty for the force--wondered if they called him
Beauty at Fort Desire--couldn't call him Pretty Gellatly, for there was
Pretty Pierre who had right of possession to that title--would like to
ask him what soap he used for his complexion--'twasn't this yellow bar-
soap of the barracks, which wouldn't lather, he'd bet his ultimate
dollar.

Waugh, who had sometime seen Sergeant Gellatly, entered into a
disputation on the point. He said that "Sergeant Tom was good-looking,
a regular Irish thoroughbred; but he wasn't pretty, not much!--guessed
Corporal Galna had nightmare, and finally, as the interest in the theme
increased in fervour, announced that Sergeant Tom could loosen the teeth
of, and knock the spots off, any man among the Riders, from Archangel's
Rise to the Cypress Hills. Pretty--not much--thoroughbred all over!"

And Corporal Galna replied, sarcastically,--"That he might be able for
spot dispersion of such a kind, but he had two as pretty spots on his
cheek, and as white and touch-no-tobacco teeth as any female ever had."
Private Waugh declared then that Corporal Galna would be saying Sergeant
Gellatly wasn't a man at all, and wore earrings, and put his hair into
papers; and when he could find no further enlargement of sarcasm,
consigned the Corporal to a fiery place of future torment reserved
for lunatics.