The scattering of costly gifts by a very free-handed person is usually most indiscreet, and Broussard was no exception to the rule. He presented his finest motor to a brother officer, who had to support a wife and children on a captain's pay and could not afford to support the motor besides. The game chickens, the beloved of Broussard's heart, he presented to another officer, whose wife objected seriously to cock-fighting. The chaplain, seeing the grand piano was about to be thrown away on anybody who could take it, managed to secure it for the men's reading-room. The thing which perplexed Broussard most was, what to do with Gamechick. He longed to give the horse to Anita but dared not. However, fate befriended him in this matter and Anita got Gamechick by other means. When Colonel Fortescue came home for the cup of tea that Mrs. Fortescue was always waiting to give him at five o'clock, with the sweet looks and tender words that made the hour so happy, he mentioned, in an off-hand way, Broussard's orders and that he was leaving the next day. Neither the father nor the mother looked toward Anita, sitting a little in the shadow of the dim drawing-room. Mrs. Fortescue, by way of making conversation, said: "I wonder what he will do with his motors and horses and game chickens, and all those beautiful things he has in his quarters?" "Oh, that's easy enough to tell," answered Colonel Fortescue. "All these young officers who load themselves up with that kind of thing act just alike. As soon as they are ordered somewhere else they throw away these things. They call it giving, but it is merely largesse." "I wish," said Anita, in a soft, composed voice, "that I could have Gamechick. I can't help loving the horse that might have killed me and did not. Daddy, if I give up half my allowance for every month until I pay for him, would you buy him for me?" Colonel Fortescue was quite as well able as Broussard to own Gamechick, but Anita had been brought up with a wholesome economy. "I think so, my dear," replied the Colonel, gravely. It would, in reality, have taken Anita's modest allowance for a couple of years to buy Gamechick. Mrs. Fortescue said as much. "It would take all your allowance for a long time, Anita, to buy Gamechick. The horse has a pedigree longer than mine, and I have often noticed that ancestors are worth a great deal more to horses than to human beings." "Oh, the price can be managed," said the Colonel, good naturedly. "Broussard's horses will probably be sold for a song." Gamechick was not sold for a song, however, but for an excellent price. Colonel Fortescue was not the man to buy a good horse for a song of any man, least of all one of his own subalterns. When Broussard got the Colonel's note containing an offer for Gamechick, he laughed with pleasure, although he was not in a laughing mood.