onies; but Dick was mounted on a black,
with a white star in his forehead, and Juan on a cream-color, with a
brown mane and tail."

"Sancho!" said Frank.

"Chiquita!" said Henry.

"Do you know where they were bound?" asked Captain Bayard.

"I did not speak to them, nor did they see me; I thought it would be
better to keep out of the way of such desperate characters in a
lonely place. I learned from a friend of theirs at Date Creek that
they intend to open a monte bank at La Paz."

"Then they are likely to remain there for some time."

"Can't something be done to get the ponies back, sir?" asked Frank.

"Perhaps so. I will consider the matter."

The mail was taken to my office and soon distributed through the
command. Among my letters was one from Colonel Burton, the father of
the boy sergeants. He said he had been expecting to send for his sons
by this mail, but additional detached service had been required of him
which might delay their departure from Whipple for another month, if
not longer. He informed me that a detail I had received to duty as
professor of military science and tactics in a boys' military school
had been withheld by the department commander until my services could
be spared at Fort Whipple, and that he thought the next mail, or the
one following it, would bring an order relieving me and ordering me
East. This would enable me to leave for the coast about the first week
in November.

Frank and Henry shared my quarters with me, and that evening, seated
before an open fire, I read their father's letter, and remarked that
perhaps I should be able to accompany them to San Francisco, and, if
the colonel consented to their request to go to the military school
with me, we might take the same steamer for Panama and New York.

"Oh, won't that be too fine for anything!" exclaimed the younger
sergeant. "Then I'll not have to leave Vicky here, after all."

Vic, upon hearing her name called, left her rug at my feet and placed
her nose on Henry's knee, and the boy stroked and patted her in his
usual affectionate manner.

"Then you have been dreading to leave the doggie?" I asked.

"Yes; I dream all sorts of uncomfortable things about her. She's in
trouble, or I am, and I cannot rescue her and she cannot help me.
Usually we are parting, and I see her far off, looking sadly back at
me."

"Henry is not the only one who dreads to part with Vic," said Frank.
"We boys can never forget the scenes at Los V