He’s the most impressive specimen
to come to Fort Heck in living memory, but . . .
YOU NEVER CAN TELL!
It wasn’t that Ballentine was immune to their generous charms, in truth, he was less immune to a pretty face and figure than almost any man alive. But for moment he was distracted, and the cause of his distraction wasn’t the game of faro at which he was winning heavily, but another woman — or part of a woman, in fact. The part in question was a silk-stockinged calf, ankle, and daintily-shoed foot. It had been gracefully swinging up and down, obviously crossed over the other unseen leg, behind a screen curtain beyond the faro layout for ten minutes now that had intrigued Ballentine more than he had been intrigued during his whole week in raw Fort Heck.
To such a devoted student of such finery, that slim limb offered endless food for thought to Ballentine, and he amused himself by trying to picture the owner, simply from what he could see. The foot was very small — and he’d heard that tiny feet indicated good breeding.
So was the unknown captivator of his attention highly bred?