of her
short hair; he heard the judge say:

"By virtue of the authority in me vested by the State of Iowa, I
pronounce you man and wife;" and then, with vacant countenance, he
sneaked slowly away, murmuring:

"_That's_ the sort of reward he got, is it? And," continued Pete, after
a moment, which was apparently one of special inspiration, "I'll bet
that's the kind of _deer_ he said he was goin' fur on the morning after
the chase."

[Illustration]

MAJOR MARTT'S FRIEND.

East Patten was one of the quietest places in the world. The
indisposition of a family horse or cow was cause for animated general
conversation, and the displaying of a new poster or prospectus on the
post-office door was the signal for a spirited gathering of citizens.

Why, therefore, Major Martt had spent the whole of three successive
leaves-of-absence at East Patten, where he hadn't a relative, and where
no other soldier lived, no one could imagine. Even professional
newsmakers never assigned any reason for it, for although their vigorous
and experienced imaginations were fully capable of forming some
plausible theory on the subject of the major's fondness for East Patten,
they shrank from making public the results of any such labors.

It was perfectly safe to circulate some purely original story about any
ordinary citizen, but there was no knowing how a military man might
treat such a matter when it reached his ears, as it was morally sure to
do.

Live military men had not been seen in East Patten since the
Revolutionary War, three-quarters of a century before the villagers
first saw Major Martt; and such soldiers as had been revealed to East
Patten through the medium of print were as dangerously touchy as the
hair-triggers of their favorite weapons.

So East Patten let the major's private affairs alone, and was really
glad to see the major in person. There was a scarcity of men at East
Patten--of interesting men, at least, for the undoubted sanctity of
the old men lent no special graces to their features or manners; while
the young men were merely the residuum of an active emigration which had
for some years been setting westward from East Patten.

[Illustration: EAST PATTEN WAS ONE OF THE QUIETEST PLACES IN THE WORLD.]

When, therefore, the tall, straight, broad-shouldered, clear-eyed,
much-whiskered major appeared on the street, looking (as he always did)
as if he had just been shaved, brushed and polished, the sight was an