re, I can't repeat just what you said, Mr.
President."

There was a general laugh in which Roosevelt joined.

"Tell me the circumstances, then."

"Why, I had gone back with a mule team to Siboney, to get supplies for
the men. The night was pitch black and it was raining torrents. The
road was a streak of mud. On the way back to the front, I heard noise
and confusion ahead. I knew it was a mired mule team. An officer in
the uniform of a Rough Rider was trying to get the mules out of the
mud, and his remarks, as I said a moment ago, should not be quoted
before the ladies. I suggested that the best thing to do, was to take
my mules and pull your wagon out, and then get your mules out. This
was done, and we saluted and parted."

"Well," said Roosevelt, "if there ever was a time when a man would be
justified in using bad language, it would be in the middle of a rainy
night, with his mules down in the mud and his wagon loaded with things
soldiers at the front needed."

Pershing, as a result of the Cuban campaign, was twice recommended for
brevet commissions, for "personal bravery and untiring energy and
faithfulness." General Baldwin said of him: "Pershing is the coolest
man under fire I ever saw."

But it was not until 1901 that he became Captain. He had now been
transferred at his own request to the Philippines. Whether or not he
won promotion through the slow-moving machinery of the war office, his
energetic spirit demanded action.

"The soldier's duty is to go wherever there is fighting," he said, and
vigorously opposed the idea that he be given a swivel-chair job.

His first term of service in the Philippines was from 1899 to 1903. In
the interval between his first and second assignments, the latter being
as Governor of the Moros, he returned to America to serve on the
General Staff, and also to act as special military observer in the
Russo-Japanese War.

His duties during the years, while arduous and often filled with
danger, were not of the sort to bring him to public notice. But they
_were_ being followed by the authorities at Washington, who have a way
of ticketing every man in the service, as to his future value to the
army. And Pershing was "making good." He had turned forty, before he
was Captain. Out in the Philippines he worked up to a Major. Now
advancement was to follow with a startling jump.

It all hinged upon that luncheon with Roosevelt, about which we have
already told, and th