"I seem to take frequent leave of you these times, Lieutenant," said he.
"Yes; and your farewell ride with the Whipple mail seems to be anything but monotonous. I think the Anabasis would be a more suitable subject for study on this route than the Memorabilia."
"'Hence they proceeded one day's journey, a distance of five parasangs, and fell in with the barbarians,' might well be said daily of this trip."
"Hadn't you better travel with me the rest of the way?"
"I think this is the last we shall see of the Apaches; they do not range south and west of here. Good-by, sir."
"Good-by, until we meet at Tysons Wells."
The next morning, when the boys, Vic and I, were taking our seats in the ambulance, Mr. Hopkins and his men, Mr. Gray and Mr. Rosenberg, approached us mounted. They informed me that all were going to La Paz.
"The Injins are gettin' a little too thick here for sleepin' well arter a hard day's work," said the ranchman. "Think I'll stay away till Uncle Sam thins 'em out a leetle more."
"Can I obtain a five or ten gallon keg of you, Mr. Hopkins?" I asked. "Ours was accidentally smashed on the road."
"Haven't a keg to my name, Lieutenant. One way 'n' ernuther all been smashed, gin way, or lent."