e matter. He made the contracts accordingly, easily
finding contractors that suited him. He then wrote to headquarters in
a triumphant manner that he had revolutionized the whole system of army
transportation of supplies to the military posts. Delighted with his
success, he rode out about the second week of May to Salt Creek, only
three miles from the fort, and, very much to his astonishment, found his
teams, which he had believed to be on the way to Santa Fe a month ago,
snugly encamped. They had "started," just as was agreed.

There are, or rather were, hundreds of stories current thirty-five years
ago of stage-coach adventures on the Trail; a volume could be filled
with them, but I must confine myself to a few.

John Chisholm was a famous ranchman a long while ago, who had so many
cattle that it was said he did not know their number himself. At one
time he had a large contract to furnish beef to an Indian agency in
Arizona; he had just delivered an immense herd there, and very wisely,
after receiving his cash for them, sent most of it on to Santa Fe in
advance of his own journey. When he arrived there, he started for the
Missouri River with a thousand dollars and sufficient small change to
meet his current expenses on the road.

The very first night out from Santa Fe, the coach was halted by a band
of men who had been watching Chisholm's movements from the time he
left the agency in Arizona. The instant the stage came to a standstill,
Chisholm divined what it meant, and had time to thrust a roll of money
down one of the legs of his trousers before the door was thrown back and
he was ordered to fork over what he had.

He invited the robbers to search him, and to take what they might find,
but said he was not in a financial condition at that juncture to turn
over much. The thieves found his watch, took that, and then began to
search him. As luck would have it, they entirely missed the roll that
was down his leg, and discovered but a two-dollar bill in his vest.
When he told them it was all he had to buy grub on the road, one of the
robbers handed him a silver dollar, remarking as he did so: "That a man
who was mean enough to travel with only two dollars ought to starve, but
he would give him the dollar just to let him know that he was dealing
with gentlemen!"

One of the essentials to the comfort of the average soldier is tobacco.
He must have it; he would sooner forego any component part of his ration
than give i