“I think,” said I, “as man to man, that you deserve shooting; but maybe this ain’t the place for it.  I voted for you for captain because you seem to know your business—­and I don’t b’lieve we’ve got another that does.  That’s how I feel.”

Gowdy laughed, that friendly, warm, musical laugh of his, just as he would have laughed in a horse trade, or over the bar, or while helping the church at a donation party.

“Well,” said he, “I called you in here—­especially you, Thorkelson—­to say that if you feel bound by any vow you’ve made, to shoot me, why, you may shoot and be damned.  I shan’t pay any attention to the matter.  From the way it sounds out there at the front, it will be only one bullet added to a basketful.  That’s all, Thorkelson.”

“Captain Gowdy,” said Magnus.

“Go on, Thorkelson,” said Gowdy.

“Van Ay bane svorn in,” said Magnus, “Ay take you for captain.  You bane a dam good-for-nothing rascal, but you bane best man for captain.  Ay bane tied up.  You bane necessary to maybe save lives of a hundred dam sight better men dan you.  Ay not shoot.  You insult me ven you talk about it.”

“In spite of the somewhat uncomplimentary and insubordinate language in which you express yourself,” said Gowdy, “which I overlook under the peculiar circumstances, I reckon I must admit that I did assume an attitude on your part of which you are incapable, and that such an assumption was insulting—­if a private can be insulted by a commissioned officer.  This being man to man, I apologize.  You may go, Thorkelson.”

Magnus clicked his heels together in the way he had learned in the old country, and saluted; Captain Gowdy returned the salute, and Magnus marched out with his head high, and his stomach drawn in.

“Devilish good soldier!” said Gowdy as he went out.  “Well, that clears the atmosphere a little!  So, Vandemark, you think I need killing, eh?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Well, it’s all in the point of view,” said he, leaning toward me and smiling that ingratiating smile of his.  “Sometimes I think so, too; but there’s only one policy for me—­lose ’em and forget ’em.  I sometimes think that the time may come when I shall wish I had married that girl.  Have you seen the baby lately?”

“I used to see it every few days,” said I.  “It’s runnin’ all over the place.”

“Look like me?”

“It will when it gits older.”

“When you go back,” said he, “if I don’t, will you do me and this little offspring of mine—­and its mother—­a favor?”

“I’ll have to wait and see what it is,” said I.