ngs for which Uncle John had spent his nephew's money
were two elegant pier-glasses, one for his own room and the other for
Ned's), and Zeke was sitting on the edge of a chair, with his elbows
resting on his knees and his chin supported by his hands.

When the commander of Fort Lamoine accepted his proffered services,
George had asked for and received a furlough for thirty days to enable
him to procure an outfit and to consult with his guardian in regard to
the management of the ranche during his absence. That furlough had
nearly expired, and George was about to start for the fort. The honest
fellows who had so long been employed on the ranche that they began to
look upon themselves as members of the Ackerman family could not bear
the thought of parting from him, and Zeke especially felt very gloomy
over it. He had often denounced, in the strongest terms, the
circumstances which seemed to render it necessary that his young friend
should cast his lot among the soldiers for a season, and on this
particular morning he looked as though he had lost everything that was
worth living for.

George had just put on his new uniform for the first time, and no one,
except a very intimate acquaintance, would have recognized in him the
rough-looking cowboy whom we introduced to the reader in the first
volume of this series of books. During the eighteen months he had lived
in the pilot-house he had fallen in with some of the ways of those by
whom he was surrounded, and grown very particular in regard to his
personal appearance, although he did not by any means go to extremes, as
his cousin Ned had done. As he placed the jaunty fatigue-cap over his
long, curly hair he looked rather complacently at the handsome face and
figure that were reflected from the polished surface of the mirror.

"Come, Zeke, don't be cross," said he, walking up to his herdsman and
giving him a slap on the back. "Say just one kind word to me before I
go."

"I won't," growled Zeke in reply.

"Then wish me good luck in my new calling," added George.

"I won't," repeated the herdsman in a still louder tone. "You're always
going off on some new callin' or another, an' I don't see no sort of
sense in it. Didn't I stay home here, quiet an' peaceable, takin' care
of your critters, while you was a-philanderin' up and down the river on
boats that was likely at any minute to burn up or bust their boilers?
Now that you have got safe home again, why in creation don't yo