l Camp Sandy, she read the
letter to one lady after another, and so it became public property. Old
Catnip, as we called the colonel, was disposed to be a little worried on
the subject. Baker was a youngster in whom he had some interest as being
a distant connection of his wife's, but Mrs. Pelham had not come to
Arizona with us, and the good old fellow was living _en garcon_ with the
Mess, where, of course, the matter was discussed in all its bearings.

All these things recurred to me as I pottered around through the herds
examining side-lines, etc., and looking up the guards. Ordinarily our
scouting parties were so small that we had no such thing as an
officer-of-the-day,--nor had we now when Gleason could have been excused
for ordering one, but he evidently desired to do nothing that might
annoy his officers. He _might_ want them to stand by him when it came to
reporting the route and result of the scout. All the same, he expected
that the troop officers would give personal supervision to their
command, and especially to look after their "herds," and it was this
duty that took me away from the group chatting about the bivouac fire
preparatory to "turning in" for the night.

When I got back, a tall, gray-haired trooper was "standing attention" in
front of the commanding officer, and had evidently just made some
report, for Mr. Gleason nodded his head appreciatively and then said,
kindly,--

"You did perfectly right, corporal. Instruct your men to keep a lookout
for it, and if seen again to-night to call me at once. I'll bring my
field-glass and we'll see what it is."

The trooper raised his left hand to the "carried" carbine in salute and
turned away. When he was out of earshot, Gleason spoke to the silent
group,--

"Now, there's a case in point. If I had command of a troop and could get
old Potts into it I could make something of him, and I know it."

Gleason had consummate faith in his "system" with the rank and file, and
no respect for that of any of the captains. Nobody said anything. Blake
hated him and puffed unconcernedly at his pipe, with a display of
absolute indifference to his superior's views that the latter did not
fail to note. The others knew what a trial "old Potts" had been to his
troop commander, and did not believe that Gleason could "reform" him at
will. The silence was embarrassing, so I inquired,--

"What had he to report?"

"Oh, nothing of any consequence. He and one of the sentries saw w