planned nothing. To be sure, I was a
prisoner with him for two days and had something to do about
bringing him back, but it all happened without planning. It
seems as if God directed us all through. Frank, Vic, the
soldiers, officers, and myself--even the dry time from
Jacob's Well to the Lithodendron--all had something to do
with finding Manuel.

"About the reward the lieutenant speaks of, we think none of
us deserve it. We've talked it over, and we think if you
would give Sapoya a chance at school, and if you cannot make
a white boy of him make him an educated man, that would be
the best reward. He's very intelligent, and if he can have a
good chance will learn fast.

"Frank and I have a scheme we hope you will approve of. Mr.
Duncan has secured a detail from the War Department to a
boys' military school in the States as instructor in
tactics, and will probably go in November. We are intending
to ask papa to let us join that school after the Christmas
holidays. We want you to send Manuel and Sapoya there. Won't
you, please? Be sure and say yes. Think what a fine chance
it will be for Sapoya.

"You know we boys feel something more than a friendship for
one another. I suppose it is like the comradeship of
soldiers who have stood shoulder to shoulder in battle.
There is a tie uniting us that is closer and firmer than
friendship; we feel more like brothers.

"We will write often. Hoping Manuel will arrive home safe,
and that he may never again be a captive,

"I remain your friend,

"HENRY BURTON."

Our letters were despatched by Manuel and Sapoya to Lieutenant
Hubbell's camp, where Captain Bayard directed the boys to await the
detachment of New Mexican cavalry which had accompanied us from the
Rio Grande and which was shortly to return there.

We resumed our march the following day at a very early hour, and as we
passed the cavalry camp two half-dressed boys came bounding out to the
road-side to once more repeat their affectionate good-byes and renew
their promises to meet in the future.

The march continued for a week longer, through a region over which the
Pullman car now rushes with the modern tourist, but through which we
moved at the gait of infantry. The boy corporals and Brenda Arnold
climbed eminences, looked through clefts in precipices into the
sublime dep