"Well, the dog didn't die--if that's what you mean," said Miss Saucy. "Only his popularity."
"What do you know about missionaries?" said Short, with a laugh. "That's a story made to order."
"It isn't! I guess I can hear things; I've got ears."
"Two pink shells," Mr. Short suggested. Miss Saucy made him a sweeping courtesy.
"Positively, the first decent word I've had said to me this morning. Mr. Kindred has been simply savage. But, do you know, Nina," she went on, half aside, "I think he believes it suits his style. Very fetching, don't you know. Why his eyes just glowed! If I wasn't so awfully afraid of him, I vow I'd make him angry every day."
"Nothing left for you two, that I see, but coffee and pistols," said Short. "I suppose you can shoot, Miss Saucy?"
"Oh, no use!" said the girl. "Mr. Kindred can't fight. He's the Zulu's dog."
Magnus coloured; but with a quiet steadiness of face and voice that held the essence of bravery, he said:
"True, Oh, Miss Saucy! So, as it is to be peace and not war, shall we walk on?"
And Miss Saucy actually behaved herself, for the rest of the way; and declared afterwards that she never _had_ known Mr. Kindred so fascinating.
Late in the afternoon, Rig coming into the tent was much astonished to find Magnus with his arms on the locker, and his head on his arms.
"Whatever's to pay now?" he said. "Just seen Pretty Newcomb go by with Carr? I wouldn't mind, Kin! There's several girls left."
"Rig," said Magnus, looking up at him, "if you bring all your brilliant intellect to bear in September, I'm afraid the Institution will blow up."
"Couldn't get the old thing started. Well, what is it, then? What are you at, all by yourself here? We've been having lots of fun in D Company."
"Good place for it," said Magnus; "your sort."
"Adding up two and two, and trying to make them six."
"Talk of blowing things up!" said Rig; "if _that_ isn't inflation! You'll find it a quicker job, Kin, to fetch in two more, if time is any object to you."
"When you want sense," said Magnus, "go straight to the man who hasn't got any, and he'll give you his whole stock. I'll pit you against the world. Clear out and curl your hair; I've got something to do."
And Magnus took from his Bible the slip of paper Mr. Upright had given him a year ago, then turned over to the fourth chapter of the first epistle of Peter, and put it in there for a mark. But he looked long and steadily at the staunch words: