ystem.

Commissioned a first lieutenant of a regiment that had had a proud
record in the regular division of the Army of the Potomac, and had been
hurried at the close of the war to the Pacific coast, Nevins had joined
at Fort Yuma and served a few weeks' apprenticeship as a file-closer,
just long enough to demonstrate that he knew nothing whatever about
soldiering and too much about poker. All his seniors in grade, except
the West Pointers graduated in '65, had brevets for war service, and
Nevins' sponsor was appealed to to rectify the omission in the
lieutenant's case. Nevins had held a commission in a volunteer regiment
in the defenses of Washington the last few months of the war, and that
was found amply sufficient, when a prominent member of the committee on
military affairs demanded it, to warrant the bestowal of a brevet for
"gallant and meritorious services." Hence came the title of captain.
Then, as company duty proved irksome, and Nevins' company and post
commander both began to stir him up for his manifold negligences and
ignorances, the aid of his patron in congress was again invoked. A
crippled veteran who could do no field service was in charge of a supply
camp for scouting parties, escorts, detachments, etc., and, to the wrath
of the regimental officers, this veteran was relieved and Lieutenant and
Brevet-Captain Nevins by department orders was detailed in his place.
This made him independent of almost everybody, beside placing in his
hands large quantities of commissary and quartermaster stores which
were worth far more to the miner, prospector and teamster than their
invoice price. The stories that began to come into Yuma and Drum
Barracks, and other old-time stations, of the "high jinks" going on day
and night at Nevins' camp, the orders for liquors, cigars and supplies
received at San Francisco and filled by every stage or steamer, the
lavish entertainment accorded to officers of any grade and to wayfarers
with any sign of money, the complaints of victims who had been fleeced,
the gloomy silence of certain fledgling subalterns after brief visits at
"Camp Ochre," as Blake had dubbed it, all pointed significantly to but
one conclusion, that, so far from living on his pay, Nevins was
gormandizing on that of everybody else, and doubtless "raising the wind"
in other ways at the expense of Uncle Sam. Even in Arizona in the days
of the Empire it could not last forever. Easy come, easy go. Nevins had
lavishly