She had been bluffing all along, and
when it came to a showdown we found that she couldn't shoot for
shucks. When the news spread around the hut the sailors crowded about
her thick as thieves, challenging her to play. She was a wild,
unregenerated old lady, but she was by no means an easy mark, as it
later developed when she matched them for the winnings, got it all
back, and I am told by some sailors that she even left the hut a
little ahead of the game. I don't object to notoriety, but there are
numerous ways of winning it that are objectionable, and this old lady
was one. Mother must have been giddier in her youth than I ever
imagined.
_July 3d._ Yesterday I lost my dog Fogerty and didn't find him until
late in the afternoon. He was up in front of the First Regiment,
mustered in with the liberty party. When he discovered my presence he
looked coldly at me, as if he had never seen me before, so I knew that
he had a date. He just sat there and shook his bangs over his eyes and
tried to appear as if he were somewhere else. When the order come to
shove off he joined the party and trotted off without even looking
back, and that was the last I saw of him until this morning, when he
came drifting in, rather unsteadily, and regarded me with a shifty
but insulting eye.
Pages:
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108