do; but his wrinkled hand wandered tenderly over the prisoner's
black, kinky hair, and tears rolled down his seamed face.

When Buff's panic wore off a bit, he was made to lie down, and Jeremiah,
sitting beside him, crooned softly, as the old black mammies do to the
little children. By the time call to quarters sounded, the condemned
man's quiet breathing told that his earthly troubles were forgotten, for
a time at least.

After this visit, Sergeant Wilson's apparent neglect of his duties
became more pronounced than ever. The simplest orders and directions
received from his troop's commander, he either forgot to perform or
executed in such a bunglesome manner as to drive Lieutenant Perkins'
irritable nature to the verge of hysteria. The latter, with his narrow
sympathies, could make no allowance for the old negro's state of mind,
and his "roasts" became more frequent and rougher with each repetition.
The sergeant took it all with apparent resignation; but within him the
troubled spirit was surging to and fro. How could he be expected to copy
troop returns and muster rolls, with that cry--"Gawd, paw, yer ain't
gwine ter let 'em kill me, is yer?" ringing in his ears, hour by hour?
It was the unfairness of it that aroused his resentment.

If the "ole Cap'n" were only here, all would be well. It was another
cruel stroke that he should be absent on detached service just when
Jeremiah needed him most.

Soldiers are a peculiar breed. They are more nearly like children in
certain characteristics than any other class of men. They are so
accustomed to being taken care of by their officers that they look to
the latter for everything. When they find one who they know will stand
up for them, and whom they can trust, their faith and confidence in him
are absolute. They will follow him through fire and flood, and obey any
order that he may give, in the blind belief that he knows what is best
for them. This is true of white soldiers, and much more so of the
darkies. This is the feeling that old Jeremiah and the men of the troop
held for Captain North, whom they all called the "ole Cap'n."

In all the years these two had served together, since the battle of the
Rosebud, when Lieutenant John T. North earned a medal of honor for
"bringing in Private J. Wilson, 19th Cavalry, who was wounded, under a
heavy fire from the Indians, at the imminent risk of his own life," the
sergeant had never received a harsh word or a rebuke that he did