toward the remaining recruits, finishing with Reginald Rupert:
"I will teach useful tricks to you little dogs later," he promised. "You shall dance me the rigolboche, and the can-can," and swaggered out.…
"Nice lad," observed Rupert, looking up from his work—and wondered what the morrow might bring forth. There should be a disappointed Luigi, or a dead Rupert about, if it came to interference and trouble.
"Sure," agreed Légionnaire Bronco, seating himself on the bed beside his beloved John Bull. "He's some stiff, that guy, an' I allow it'll soon be up ter me ter conduct our Loojey ter the bone-orchard. He's a plug-ugly. He's a ward-heeler. Land sakes! I wants ter punch our Loojey till Hell pops; an' when it comes ter shootin' I got Loojey skinned a mile—sure thing. J'ai Loojey écorché un mille.… Nope, there ain't 'nuff real room fer Looje an' me in Algery—not while Carmelita's around.…
"Say, John," he continued, turning to his friend, "she up an' axed me las' night ef he ever went ter the Canteen an' ef Madam lar Canteenair didn't ever git amakin' eyes at her beautiful Looje! Yep! It is time Loojey kissed hisself good-bye."
"Oh? What did you tell her?" enquired John Bull. "There is no doubt the swine will marry the Canteen if he can. More profitable than poor little Carmelita's show. He is a low stinker, and she's one of the best and prettiest and pluckiest little women who ever lived.… She's so débrouillarde."
"Wot did I say? Wal, John, wot I ses was—'Amakin' eyes at yure Loojey, my dear.' I ses, 'Madam
