ot.
Why, the last time the paymaster was here his little snipe of a clerk
remarked in my hearing that enlisted men were nothing more than servants
to the officers. What do you think of that?"

Bob did not know what to think of it, so he said nothing in reply. He
simply resolved that he would not pass judgment upon his superiors until
he had had some experience with them himself.

"This is by no means the gloomy place that I expected to find it," said
Bob as he and Gus resumed their walk.

"Oh, the fort itself is good enough," replied Gus; "it's the people who
live in it that I object to. If one could pick his own company, and
could do as he pleased, he might manage to live here for a few years
very comfortably; but we have to associate with some rough characters
there in the barracks, and the officers hold us with our noses close to
the grindstone all the time. They look upon a private as little better
than a dog, and they'll slap him into the guard-house on the slightest
provocation. Now, this is one of the stables; it will accommodate
seventy horses. Those you see in here are blooded animals, and they
belong to the officers. The government horses are always picketed
outside, except when there is danger of a visit from the raiders, and
then they are brought in for safe-keeping. Now, take a good look at the
stable, and then come out and take another look at the stockade. Every
night there are two sentries placed over this stable--one at the front,
and the other at the rear, between the stable and the stockade--and a
guard sleeps inside. Would you believe that, after all these
precautions, it would be possible for anybody to come into the fort and
steal a horse?"

Bob said he would not.

"Well, it was done not more than two weeks ago," continued Gus. "One
stormy night these two logs were removed from the stockade, and four of
the best horses in the stable were run off. It must have taken hours to
do the work, and although the sentries were changed while it was going
on, no one knew that a theft had been committed until the next morning."

"Who did it?" inquired Bob.

"A couple of Comanches, who were surprised and killed by the squad that
was sent in pursuit of them. The Comanches are acknowledged, even by the
Indians themselves, to be the most expert horse-thieves on the Plains.
Why, one night, when a scouting-party to which I was attached were in
camp and fast asleep, a Comanche crept up and stole the lieutenant