d me for drinking too much at
the wrong time. The section boss said he couldn't help himself, and I
don't suppose he could."

"As I remember," said Drummond, presently, and with hesitation, for he
hated to pry into the past of a man who spoke so frankly and who made
no effort to conceal his weakness, "you were driver of the buck-board
the Morales gang held up last November over near the Catarinas."

"Yes; that's the time I got drunk, sir. It's all that saved me from
being killed, and between keeping sober and losing my life or getting
drunk and losing a job, I preferred the latter."

"Yet you were in a measure responsible for the safety of your
passengers and mail, were you not?"

"Well, no, sir, not after the warning I gave the company. I told them
Ramon Morales was in Tucson the night before we had to pull out, and
wherever he was that infernal cut-throat of a brother of his wasn't
far away. I told them it was taking chances to let Judge Gillette and
that infantry quartermaster try to go through without escort. I begged
to throw up the job that very night, but they held me to my contract,
and I had to go. We were jumped not ten miles out of town, and before
any one could draw a Derringer every man of us was covered. The judge
might have known they'd shoot him on sight ever since that Greaser
from Hermosillo was lynched. But they never harmed the quartermaster."

"Huh! The devil they didn't!" laughed the lieutenant. "They took his
watch and his money and everything he had on except his
underclothing. How long had you been driving when that happened?"

"Just eight months, sir, between Tucson and Grant."

"And did you never serve with the cavalry before? You ride as though
you had."

"Most men hereabouts served on one side or other," said Bland, calmly,
as his horse finished his long pull at the water.

"And your side was--?"

"Confederate," was the brief reply. "I was born in Texas. Here comes
the troop, sir."

"Come on, then. I want to ask you about that trail to Crittenden as we
ride. We make first for the Picacho Pass from here."

"Why, that's south of west, sir," answered Bland. "I had thought
perhaps the lieutenant would want to go northward towards the Gila to
head off any parties of the Apaches that might be striving to get away
eastward with their booty. They must have picked up something over at
the Bend."

"They're more likely to go southward, Bland, for they know where we've
been scouting all