esticated in
a rude but comfortable stable in rear of my little army-house, and there
he slept, was groomed and fed, but never confined. He had the run of our
yard, and, after critical inspection of the wood-shed, the coal-hole,
and the kitchen, Van seemed to decide upon the last-named as his
favorite resort. He looked with curious and speculative eyes upon our
darky cook on the arrival of that domestic functionary, and seemed for
once in his life to be a trifle taken aback by the sight of her woolly
pate and Ethiopian complexion. Hannah, however, was duly instructed by
her mistress to treat Van on all occasions with great consideration, and
this to Hannah's darkened intellect meant unlimited loaf-sugar. The
adjutant could not fail to note that Van was almost always to be seen
standing at the kitchen door, and on those rare occasions when he
himself was permitted to invade those premises he was never surprised to
find Van's shapely head peering in at the window, or head, neck, and
shoulders bulging in at the wood-shed beyond.

Yet the ex-champion and racer did not live an idle existence. He had his
hours of duty, and keenly relished them. Office-work over at
orderly-call at high noon it was the adjutant's custom to return to his
quarters and speedily to appear in riding-dress on the front piazza. At
about the same moment Van, duly caparisoned, would be led forth from his
paddock, and in another moment he and his rider would be flying off
across the breezy level of the prairie. Cheyenne, as has been said, lay
just three miles away, and thither Van would speed with long, elastic
strides, as though glorying in his powers. It was at once his exercise
and his enjoyment, and to his rider it was the best hour of the day. He
rode alone, for no horse at Russell could keep alongside. He rode at
full speed, for in all the twenty-four that hour from twelve to one was
the only one he could call his own for recreation and for healthful
exercise. He rode to Cheyenne that he might be present at the event of
the day,--the arrival of the trans-continental train from the East. He
sometimes rode beyond, that he might meet the train when it was belated
and race it back to town; and this--_this_ was Van's glory. The rolling
prairie lay open and free on each side of the iron track, and Van soon
learned to take his post upon a little mound whence the coming of the
"express" could be marked, and, as it flared into sight from the
darkness of the