On the Trail of Deserters

iers in the regiment-- He had a straight nose--strong chin and steel-blue eyes, the glint of which, when he was aroused--looked dangerous when squinting down the sights of our old Spencer Carbines-- He reminded me of that free, rollicksome--"devil-may-care" d'Artagnan, one of the "Three Musketeers"-- He probably had a past like many other enlisted men who entered the regular army after the Civil War-- If so, for obvious reasons, we never pried into that past. He entered into the spirit and novelty of this new adventure with commendable zeal, energy, spirit and enthusiasm-- I felt that I knew my man perfectly, and that, under all circumstances, he would prove absolutely loyal to all duty and be faithful to whatever trust I reposed in him--

We were all well mounted, well armed, and had one good, well trained pack mule to carry our grub-- We both had guides, the one assigned to the writer being William Rhodes, a rancher, who had been driven in to the shelter of the post by Indians, a very quiet, sturdy, h