"I was left with a man named Butler."
"Where is your horse?" he wanted to know.
"I let a comrade have it," I told him, "because I was afraid I would never be able to ride again."
"Where are you going now?" he asked.
"To my regiment."
"What is your regiment?"
"Wharton's Rangers."
"What is your Captain's name?" he would like to know.
"Captain Cook," I told him.
"What part of Texas were you from?" he asked.