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Connor, Ralph, Pseudonym, 1860-1937

"Corporal Cameron of the North West Mounted Police; a tale of the Macleod trail"


"Wonder if old Martin is anywhere about," he said to himself as he rode
across to the open door.
"Is Dr. Martin in?" he enquired of a Chinaman, who appeared from a tent
at the rear.
"Doc Matin go 'way 'long tlain."
"When will he come back?" demanded Cameron.
"Donno. See missy woman."
So saying, he disappeared into the tent while Cameron waited.
"You wish to see the doctor? He has gone west. Oh! Why, it--"
Cameron was off his horse, standing with his hat in one hand, the other
outstretched toward the speaker.
"Why! it cannot be!--it is--my patient." The little nurse had his hand
in both of hers. "Oh, you great big monster soldier! Do you know how
fine you look?"
"No," replied Cameron, "but I do know how perfectly fine you look."
"Well, don't devour me. You look dangerous."
"I should truly love one little bite."
"Oh, Mr. Cameron, stop! You terrible man! Right in the open street!" The
little nurse's cheeks flamed red as she quickly glanced about her. "What
would Dr. Martin say?"
"Dr. Martin!" Cameron laughed. "Besides, I couldn't help it."
"Oh, I am so glad!"
"Thank you," said Cameron.
"I mean I am so glad to see you. They told us you would be coming
to join us. And now they are gone. What a pity! They will be so
disappointed."
"Who, pray, will be thus blighted?"
"Oh, the doctor I mean, and--and"--here her eyes danced
mischievously--"the other nurse, of course.


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