t night when drunk. Here, I'll show you." And
with that Captain Buxton started off towards the herd, Mr. Billings
obediently following, but feeling vaguely ill at ease. He had never met
Captain Buxton before, but letters from his comrades had prepared him
for experiences not altogether pleasant. A good soldier in some
respects, Captain Buxton bore the reputation of having an almost
ungovernable temper, of being at times brutally violent in his language
and conduct towards his men, and, worse yet, of bearing ill-concealed
malice, and "nursing his wrath to keep it warm" against such of his
enlisted men as had ever ventured to appeal for justice. The captain
stopped on reaching the outskirts of the quietly-grazing herd.

"Corporal," said he to the non-commissioned officer in charge, "isn't
that O'Grady's horse off there to the left?"

"Yes, sir."

"Go and tell O'Grady to come here."

The corporal saluted and went off on his errand.

"Now, Mr. Billings," said the captain, "I have repeatedly given orders
that my horses must be side-lined when we are in the hostiles' country.
Just come here to the left." And he walked over towards a handsome,
sturdy little California horse of a bright bay color. "Here, you see, is
O'Grady's horse, and not a side-line: that's his way of obeying orders.
More than that, he is never content to have his horse in among the
others, but must always get away outside, just where he is most apt to
be run off by any Indian sharp and quick enough to dare it. Now, here
comes O'Grady. Watch him, if you want to see him in his true light."

Standing beside his superior, Mr. Billings looked towards the
approaching trooper, who, with a quick, springy step, advanced to within
a few yards of them, then stopped short and, erect and in silence,
raised his hand in salute, and with perfectly respectful demeanor looked
straight at his captain.

In a voice at once harsh and distinctly audible over the entire bivouac,
with frowning brow and angry eyes, Buxton demanded,--

"O'Grady, where are your side-lines?"

"Over with my blankets, sir."

"Over with your blankets, are they? Why in ----, sir, are they not here
on your horse, where they ought to be?" And the captain's voice waxed
harsher and louder, and his manner more threatening.

"I understood the captain's orders to be that they need not go on till
sunset," replied the soldier, calmly and respectfully, "and I don't like
to put them on that sore place, s