Now, I have to sit around and hear old Bolland tell how he put
down a car-strike in St. Louis, and Stickney's long-winded yarns of
Table Mountain and the Bloody Angle. He doesn't know the Civil War's
over. I tell you, if I can't get excitement on tap I've got to make
it, and if I make it out here they'll court-martial me. So there's
nothing for it but to resign."
"You'd better wait till the end of the week," said Crosby, grinning.
"It's going to be full of gayety. Thursday, paymaster's coming out
with our cash, and to-night that Miss Post from New York arrives in
the up stage. She's to visit the colonel, so everybody will have to
give her a good time."
"Yes, I certainly must wait for that," growled Ranson; "there
probably will be progressive euchre parties all along the line, and
we'll sit up as late as ten o'clock and stick little gilt stars on
ourselves."
Crosby laughed tolerantly.
"I see your point of view," he said. "I remember when my father took
me to Monte Carlo I saw you at the tables with enough money in front
of you to start a bank. I remember my father asked the croupiers why
they allowed a child of your age to gamble.
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