he could tell all about his
hunt, and if he had lost the second poor little antelope. West almost
danced from joy when he saw him, and lost no time in giving him a bath
and putting him in his warm bed. Greyhounds are often great martyrs to
rheumatism, and Deacon, one of the pack, will sometimes howl from pain
after a hunt. And the howl of a greyhound is far-reaching and something
to be remembered.

Very soon now I will be with you! Faye has decided to close the house
and live with the bachelors while I am away. This will be much more
pleasant for him than staying here all alone.

FORT LYON, COLORADO TERRITORY, October, 1873.

THE trip out was tiresome and seemed endless, but nothing worth
mentioning happened until I got to Granada, where Faye met me with an
ambulance and escort wagon. It was after two o'clock in the morning when
the train reached the station, and as it is the terminus of the road,
every passenger left the car. I waited a minute for Faye to come in, but
as he did not I went out also, feeling that something was wrong.

Just as I stepped off the car, Mr. Davis, quartermaster's clerk,
appeared and took my satchel, assuring me that Faye was right there
waiting for me. This was so very unlike Faye's way of doing things, that
at once I suspected that the real truth was not being told. But I went
with him quickly through the little crowd, and on up the platform, and
then I saw Faye. He was standing at one corner of the building--all
alone, and I recognized him instantly by the long light-blue overcoat
and big campaign hat with brim turned up.

And I saw also, standing on the corner of the platform in front of him,
a soldier with rifle in hand, and on the end of it glistening in the
moonlight was a long bayonet! I had lived with troops long enough to
know that the bayonet would not be there unless the soldier was a sentry
guarding somebody or something. I naturally turned toward Faye, but was
held back by Mr. Davis, and that made me indignant, but Faye at once
said quietly and in a voice just loud enough for me to hear, "Get in
the ambulance and ask no questions!" And still he did not move from
the corner. By this time I was terribly frightened and more and more
puzzled. Drawn up close to the farther side of the platform was an
ambulance, also an escort wagon, in which sat several soldiers, and
handing my trunk checks to Mr. Davis, I got, into the ambulance, my
teeth chattering as though I had a chill.