"Neither do I," said another of the recruits. "Of course we expect to be pursued, but we shall take good care that we are not caught. Any of these ranchemen who want herdsmen will furnish us with citizens' clothing, and before our year is out the thing will blow over, and then we'll go home, and stay there."
"It won't blow over as easily as you think for," said Bob. "It will be known to your home authorities and to everybody else that you are deserters, and all the detectives in the United States will be on the lookout for you. If you want to live in constant fear of arrest, you can do it, but I won't."
Bob stuck to his resolution, and his discontented companions stuck to theirs. We shall see in due time which of the four made the wisest decision.
CHAPTER II.
AN OLD FRIEND TURNS UP.
The long, toilsome journey was completed at last, and late one afternoon the weary and footsore recruits found themselves drawn up in line on the parade-ground at Fort Lamoine. After the roll had been called and the colonel commanding the post had hurriedly inspected them, they were turned over to a sergeant, who marched them into the barracks. There they found about two hundred or more soldiers, who, as soon as the order was given to "break ranks," crowded about them inquiring for late papers and asking a thousand and one questions in regard to what was going on in the States.
Learning from the sergeant that no duty would be required of him that day, Bob spread his blankets in one of the empty bunks, and, stretching himself upon them, placed his hands under his head and looked about him with no little curiosity. Presently a young trooper, a boy about his own age, who looked as though he were just recovering from a long siege of sickness, approached, and, seating himself on the edge of Bob's bunk, began a conversation with him. Those of our readers who have met this boy before in citizen's dress might have seen something familiar about him, but still it is doubtful if they would have recognized in him—Well, we will let him reveal his identity. After a few commonplace remarks Bob inquired, as he nodded his head toward a soldier who was hobbling about the room with the aid of a crutch,