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Davis, Richard Harding, 1864-1916

"Ranson's Folly"

Clancey
reported that he couldn't find you. So we sent Curtis. They went to
act as escort for Colonel Patten and the pay. He's coming up to-night
in the stage." Ranson was gazing down into his glass. Before he
raised his head he picked several pieces of ice out of it and then
drained it.
"The paymaster, hey?" he said. "He's in the stage to-night, is he?"
"Yes," said the adjutant; and then as the bugle and stamp of hoofs
sounded from the parade outside, "and that's him now, I guess," he
added.
Ranson refilled his glass with infinite care, and then, in spite of a
smile that twitched at the corners of his mouth, emptied it slowly.
There was the jingle of spurs and a measured tramp on the veranda of
the club-house, and for the first time in its history four enlisted
men, carrying their Krags, invaded its portals. They were led by
Lieutenant Crosby; his face was white under the tan, and full of
suffering. The officers in the room received the intrusion in amazed
silence. Crosby strode among them, looking neither to the left nor
right, and touched Lieutenant Ranson upon the shoulder.
"The colonel's orders, Lieutenant Ranson," he said.


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