disagreed with
him and he had gone amiss, as would the mechanism of some of the best
watches in the regiment, unable to stand the strain of anything so hot
and high and dry. Possibly the Third was so overjoyed at getting out of
Arizona on any terms that they would gladly have left their eye-teeth in
pawn. Whatever may have been the cause, the transfer was an accomplished
fact, and Van was one of some seven hundred quadrupeds, of greater or
less value, which became the property of the Fifth Regiment of Cavalry,
U.S.A., in lawful exchange for a like number of chargers left in the
stables along the recently-built Union Pacific to await the coming of
their new riders from the distant West.

We had never met in those days, Van and I. "Compadres" and chums as we
were destined to become, we were utterly unknown and indifferent to each
other; but in point of regimental reputation at the time, Van had
decidedly the best of it. He was a celebrity at head-quarters, I a
subaltern at an isolated post. He had apparently become acclimated, and
was rapidly winning respect for himself and dollars for his backers; I
was winning neither for anybody, and doubtless losing both,--they go
together, somehow. Van was living on metaphorical clover down near
Tucson; I was roughing it out on the rocks of the Mogollon. Each after
his own fashion served out his time in the grim old Territory, and at
last "came marching home again;" and early in the summer of the
Centennial year, and just in the midst of the great Sioux war of 1876,
Van and I made each other's acquaintance.

What I liked about him was the air of thoroughbred ease with which he
adapted himself to his surroundings. He was in swell society on the
occasion of our first meeting, being bestridden by the colonel of the
regiment. He was dressed and caparisoned in the height of martial
fashion; his clear eyes, glistening coat, and joyous bearing spoke of
the perfection of health; his every glance and movement told of elastic
vigor and dauntless spirit. He was a horse with a pedigree,--let alone
any self-made reputation,--and he knew it; more than that, he knew that
I was charmed at the first greeting; probably he liked it, possibly he
liked me. What he saw in me I never discovered. Van, though
demonstrative eventually, was reticent and little given to verbal
flattery. It was long indeed before any degree of intimacy was
established between us: perhaps it might never have come but for the
s