nd said he was too hot to run
in any direction Spaniard or no Spaniard. So we sat down and panted.
At last he asked me if I was R. H. D. and I said I was and he said "I'm
Dean, I met you in Harvard in the racquet court." Then we embraced--the
tenth came up then and it was all over. My leg, thank goodness, is all
right again and has been so for three days. It was only the running
about that caused it. I won't have to run again as I have a horse now
and there will be no more ambushes and moreover we have 12,000 men
around us-- Being together that way in a tight place has made us all
friends and I guess I'll stick to the regiment. Send this to dear
Mother and tell her I was not born to be killed. I ought to tell you
more of the charming side of the life--we are all dirty and hungry and
sleep on the ground and have grand talks on every subject around the
headquarters tent. I was never more happy and content and never so
well. It is hot but at night it is quite cool and there has been no
rain only a few showers. 'No one is ill and there have been no cases of
fever. I have not heard from you or any one since the 14th, which is
not really long but so much goes on that it seems so. Lots of love to
you all.

DICK.

After reading this over I ought perhaps to say that the position of the
real correspondents is absolutely the very best. No one confounds us
with the men at the base, and nothing they have they deny us. We are
treated immeasurably better than the poor attaches who are still on the
ship and who if they were spies could not be treated worse. But for
Whitney, Remington and myself nothing is too good. Generals fight to
have us on their staffs and all that sort of thing, so I really cannot
complain, except about the fact that our real news is crowded out by
the faker in the rear.

SANTIAGO.

Headquarters
Cavalry Division, U. S. Army.
Headqrs. Wood's Rough Riders.

June 29th, 1898.

DEAR DAD:

I suppose you are back from Marion now and I have missed you. I can't
tell you how sorry I am. I wanted to see you coming up the street this
summer in your knickerbockers and with no fish, but still happy. Never
mind, we shall do the theatres this Fall, and have good walks downtown.
I hope Mother will come up and visit me this September, at Marion and
sit on Allen's and on the Clarks' porch and we can have Chas. too. I
suppose he will have had his holiday but he can come up for a Sunday.
We exp