"Did you hear what the colonel said to him about a servant?" asked the orderly. "Whoever saw a scout with a servant? I never did, and neither did I ever before see a man holding that position treated with so much consideration by a post-commander. I can't account for it."
Bob could not account for it either, and so he attempted no explanation. We may tell the reader that there were two good reasons for it. In the first place, George was not a regular scout; he might, with more propriety, have been called a volunteer aide. It is true that he was sworn into the service, and that he was bound to do his duty faithfully "during the pleasure of the commanding officer" of Fort Lamoine, but he drew no pay from the government. He did not even ask that he should be fed while he lived at the fort, but stood ready to pay his share of the mess-bill. He had freely offered his services as guide to the troops because he, in common with every rancheman and farmer in that country, wanted the raiding-parties broken up, and he believed that he could do as much, if not more, toward accomplishing that object than any other single civilian. He was not obliged to wear a uniform (being sworn in, he had a right to wear it), but he had purchased it for the same reason that he had purchased the Mexican costume and the other clothing he had brought with him—because he believed it might some day be of use to him. We have already seen how one of his disguises came into play. If he had not brought with him that Mexican suit, it is hard to tell how Bryant would have been captured.
In the next place, the colonel was an old acquaintance and friend of George's father. He had often enjoyed Mr. Ackerman's hospitality, and he could say, with Zeke, that he had carried George in his arms when the latter was a "yelling baby not knee-high to a duck," and when he himself was nothing but a second lieutenant. Since that time a great many things had happened. Mr. Ackerman and his wife were dead, the second lieutenant had passed through a terrible war, had worn a major-general's shoulder-straps in the volunteer army and won a brevet colonelcy in the regulars, and George had grown almost to manhood. Neither of them knew of the presence of the other in that country until George, accompanied by Mr. Gilbert and a few other ranchemen, came to the fort to offer his services. The colonel knew the boy as soon as he heard his name, and it was on account of the respect and affection he cherished for the memory of his father that he extended so cordial a greeting to him; but, like all the other soldiers who had seen him, the colonel did not think that George was just the guide he wanted.
"I need somebody with age and experience, George," said he, "and you have neither. I know you can handle a herd of cattle and manage your ranche in good style, but I am not so certain of your ability to act as guide to my troops. I admire your pluck, and I should be glad to have you come here and live until you get tired of it; and in order to make it lawful for you to stay here, I will give you a position as forage-master."
"I am very much obliged to you, sir, but that is a berth I don't want," answered George. "I want to help put down those raiders."
"But just think of the responsibility that would rest upon you," protested the colonel. "A single blunder on your part might cripple me fearfully."
"You need have no fears on that score," said Mr. Gilbert. "George is good wherever you put him. He is acquainted with Fletcher, who is the most active of all the raiders who trouble us; he knows where he hangs out, and he is the only one on this side of the river who does. When it comes to trailing, he is at home there too. Can you look at a trail and tell how old it is and how many men or horses made it?"
No, the colonel couldn't do that. He always looked to his scouts for information on those points.
"George can do it," said Mr. Gilbert. "He has served his time under one of the best trailers in the country; and that is Zeke, his herdsman."
After a little more conversation the colonel, although not without many misgivings, accepted the offer of George's services; and he never had occasion to regret it. During the very first expedition that was sent out of the fort after he reported there for duty he showed what he was made of, and gave the colonel reason for placing almost unlimited confidence in his judgment. Acting as Bob Owens's counsellor, he enabled the latter to perform an exploit that made him the lion of the post.