posed generals in the first
two hours of their arrival at a post to be in the habit of finding out
more about your aparejos than you knew yourself. But old the General was
not. At the present day many captains are older than Crook was then.

Down at the barracks there was the same curiosity about what the "Old
Man" was going to do as existed at the post commander's during the early
part of supper. It pleased the cavalry to tell the infantry that the
Old Man proposed to take the infantry to the Columbia River next week;
and the infantry replied to the cavalry that they were quite right as to
the river and the week, and it was hard luck the General needed only
mounted troops on this trip. Others had heard he had come to superintend
the building of a line of telegraph to Klamath, which would be a good
winter's job for somebody; but nobody supposed that anything would
happen yet awhile.

And then a man came in and told them the General had sent his boots to
the saddler to have nails hammered in the soles.

"That eer means business," said Jack Long, "'n' I guess I'll nail up mee
own cowhides."

"Jock," said Specimen Jones to Cumnor, "you and me 'ain't got any soles
to ourn because they're contract boots, y'u see. I'll nail up yer feet
if y'u say so. It's liable to be slippery."

Cumnor did not take in the situation at once. "What's your hurry?" he
inquired of Jack Long. Therefore it was explained to him that when
General Crook ordered his boots fixed you might expect to be on the road
shortly. Cumnor swore some resigned, unemphatic oaths, fondly supposing
that "shortly" meant some time or other; but hearing in the next five
minutes the definite fact that F troop would get up at two, he made use
of profound and thorough language, and compared the soldier with the
slave.

"Why, y'u talk almost like a man, Jock," said Specimen Jones. "Blamed if
y'u don't sound pretty near growed up."

Cumnor invited Jones to mind his business.

"Yer muss-tache has come since Arizona," continued Jones, admiringly,
"and yer blue eye is bad-lookin'--worse than when we shot at yer heels
and y'u danced fer us."

"I thought they were going to give us a rest," mumbled the youth,
flushing. "I thought we'd be let stay here a spell."

"I thought so too, Jock. A little monotony would be fine variety. But a
man must take his medicine, y'u know, and not squeal." Jones had lowered
his voice, and now spoke without satire to the boy whom he had in