best
saloons of Arizona, applied for the position of "bouncer out" at the
Executive Chamber when I was elected Governor, and how I got him a job
at railroading instead, and finally had to ship him back to his own
Territory also; how a valued friend from a cow ranch in the remote
West accepted a pressing invitation to spend a few days at the home of
another ex-trooper, a New Yorker of fastidious instincts, and arrived
with an umbrella as his only baggage; how poor Holderman and Pollock
both died and were buried with military honors, all of Pollock's
tribesmen coming to the burial; how Tom Isbell joined Buffalo Bill's
Wild West Show, and how, on the other hand, George Rowland scornfully
refused to remain in the East at all, writing to a gallant young New
Yorker who had been his bunkie: "Well, old boy, I am glad I didn't go
home with you for them people to look at, because I ain't a Buffalo or
a rhinoceros or a giraffe, and I don't like to be stared at, and you
know we didn't do no hard fighting down there. I have been in closer
places than that right here in United States, that is better men to
fight than them dam Spaniards." In another letter Rowland tells of the
fate of Tom Darnell, the rider, he who rode the sorrel horse of the
Third Cavalry: "There ain't much news to write of except poor old Tom
Darnell got killed about a month ago. Tom and another fellow had a
fight and he shot Tom through the heart and Tom was dead when he hit
the floor. Tom was sure a good old boy, and I sure hated to hear of
him going, and he had plenty of grit too. No man ever called on him
for a fight that he didn't get it."

My men were children of the dragon's blood, and if they had no
outland foe to fight and no outlet for their vigorous and daring
energy, there was always the chance of their fighting one another: but
the great majority, if given the chance to do hard or dangerous work,
availed themselves of it with the utmost eagerness, and though fever
sickened and weakened them so that many died from it during the few
months following their return, yet, as a whole, they are now doing
fairly well. A few have shot other men or been shot themselves; a few
ran for office and got elected, like Llewellen and Luna in New Mexico,
or defeated, like Brodie and Wilcox in Arizona; some have been trying
hard to get to the Philippines; some have returned to college, or to
the law, or the factory, or the counting-room; most of them have gone
back to the