guided solely by impulse and an
undercurrent of generosity, led them to give all they had without
thinking. Man after man, in high good-humor, plunged his hands into
some corner of his box locker and raked up little hoards of cash that he
had saved for tobacco, soap, and such necessities. However, when the
silver was poured on the bed and counted, Sergeant Potter scratched his
woolly head.

"Tain't no kinder use, boys. Twenty-fo' dollars an' ten cents. Dat'll
sen' fo'ty-eight big words and one little 'un. Dat ain't nowhere near
a'nuf. He'd show'ly feel mightly slighted, de Presydent would, ef we
did'n sen' 'im no mo' talk dan dat. We gotter 'spress dis thing logical
an' ellygant, ur he won't take no notice uf it, none whatever. We
nacherally gotter have mo' uf de muzuma."

This was very discouraging, and produced more deep thought and head
rubbing, until Private Andy Smith broke out:

"Well, dis ain't no time fer tu back out. Damn de 17th Article uv
Wah[4]! Jess watch my smoke, niggers."

The rest of the men observed him curiously as he shouldered his way out
of the circle. He went to his gold medal cot, and jerking off one of the
fine, heavy army blankets, spread it on the floor. Then he rummaged
amongst the clothing in his locker, and taking out a pair of extra
shoes, a flannel shirt, and a white stable suit, rolled them into his
blanket. Throwing the bundle thus made over his shoulder, he stalked out
into the rain.

The effect of this eminently lawless example was instantaneous. The
splendid regulation blankets and flannel shirts were at a premium among
the natives, and the market was never dull. They could be coined into
_pesos_ on sight. There was a grand rush, and soon the blankets and
spare articles of clothing went forth into the night, lugged by their
respective owners. Shortly the darkies, wet and steaming, began to stamp
back into the quarters, and the "dobie dollars" again clinked into the
crown of Potter's old campaign hat.

* * * * *

Lieutenant Roger Williams Perkins was what is known as a solitary
drinker. They are the worst kind. They drink by themselves, and purely
for the effect. Doubtless their mental processes at such times are
curious indeed.

The rain was falling steadily outside. There was no chance that any of
the other men would come in to-night. Perkins sat alone at his table, as
he had sat since six o'clock. It was now eight, and as he reached to
take