n found a purchaser, and I was a
wanderer on the face of the earth. My parents were both dead, and I had
no brothers or sisters living.

"Where should I go, or what pursuit should I follow? I went through
India, listlessly, and from a Mediterranean port sailed for
England--anywhere. But we landed at Gibraltar. There I saw a troop of
smart English on the way to Africa. I was imbued with the spirit of
adventure, and I offered to join, but was refused, as I was not a
subject of the Queen. But later I knew how to correct that, and I sailed
with the next detachment to the south, and for two years I took part in
the Matabela campaign, where the fighting was more bitter and relentless
than in any colonial contest England had ever engaged in. I was severely
wounded, and sent to England at the close of my term of service and
received an honorable discharge. In the meantime I learned that all the
funds from the proceeds of the ship had been swallowed up in a bank
disaster, where they had been deposited, and I was left with nothing but
the little I had saved.

"My discharge finally served the purpose of securing me a position as a
tutor to a young lord, and through him I later on obtained a berth as
instructor in a well-known institution. But this was too tame for me. I
went to Greece and entered the army, and fought through two campaigns
against the Turks, and when the war ended I took the first ship and
sailed for New York.

"Within a day after landing in that city I joined the army and was sent
west, where, within six months, it landed me in a campaign under General
Crook against the Apaches of the Southwest, and was present at the
capture of Geronimo, the most bloodthirsty devil that was ever permitted
to live. From there we went to the north, and we had a repetition of the
experiences against the most skilled warriors on the American continent,
the Siouxs and the Arapahoes.

"When my enlistment expired I had earned a lieutenancy, but I had tired
of the turmoil of the past six years, and returned east and then
accepted a position as Professor of Philosophy in the college where Jim
Stratton was a student.

"I was always fond of tools, and the machine shop on board our vessel
was a constant source of enjoyment, and before I sold it I had become so
proficient in the use of tools that I could make anything in wood or
iron.

"I enjoyed teaching, but the life was not free enough for me, and after
five years of that drudging