Offered a commission in the reg'lar service lots
o' times. Refused."
"Why?" asked Brant demurely.
"Too much West Point starch around to suit ME," returned Hooker darkly.
"And too many spies!"
"Spies?" echoed Brant abstractedly, with a momentary reminiscence of
Miss Faulkner.
"Yes, spies," continued Hooker, with dogged mystery. "One half of
Washington is watching t'other half, and, from the President's wife
down, most of the women are secesh!"
Brant suddenly fixed his keen eyes on his guest. But the next moment he
reflected that this was only Jim Hooker's usual speech, and possessed no
ulterior significance. He smiled again, and said, more gently,--
"And how is Mrs. Hooker?"
Mr. Hooker fixed his eyes on the ceiling, rose, and pretended to look
out of the window; then, taking his seat again by the table, as if
fronting an imaginary audience, and pulling slowly at his gauntlets
after the usual theatrical indication of perfect sangfroid, said,--
"There ain't any!"
"Good heavens!" said Brant, with genuine emotion. "I beg your pardon.
Really, I"--
"Mrs. Hooker and me are divorced," continued Hooker, slightly changing
his attitude, and leaning heavily on his sabre, with his eyes still on
his fanciful audience.
Pages:
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138