"Randolph!" said I, "this is too much. Confound it, man! Are you mad, or are you a villain? What the devil do you mean by trifling with the affections of that little girl? By Heavens! Jack Randolph, if you carry on this game with her, there's not a man in the regiment that won't join to crush you." "Pitch in," said Jack quietly, looking at me at the same time with something like approval. "That's the right sort of thing. That's just what I've been saying to myself. I've been swearing like a trooper at myself all the way here. If there's any one on earth that every fellow ought to stand up for, it's little Louie. And now you see the reason why I want you to attend to that little affair of the gravestone." At Jack's quiet tone, my excitement subsided. I picked up my pipe again, and thought it over. "The fact is, Jack," said I, after about ten minutes of profound smoking, "I think you'll have to carry out that little plan of yours. Sell out as soon as you can, and take Louie with you to a farm in Minnesota." "Easier said than done," said Jack, sententiously. "Done? why, man, it's easy enough. You can drop the other three, and retire from the scene. That'll save Louie from coming to grief." "Yes; but it won't make her come to Minnesota." "Why not? She's just the girl to go anywhere with a fellow." "But not with Jack Randolph." "What humbug are you up to now? I don't understand you." "So I see," said Jack, dryly. "You take it for granted that because I proposed, Louie accepted. Whereas, that didn't happen to be the case. I proposed, but Louie disposed of me pretty effectually." "Mittened?" cried I. "Mittened!" said Jack, solemnly. "Hence the gravestone." "But how, in the name of wonder, did that happen?" "Easily enough. Louie happens to have brains. That's the shortest way to account for her refusal of my very valuable devotions. But I'll tell you all about it, and, after that, we'll decide about the headstone.