George at the Fort | Page 7

inquired, as he nodded his head toward a

soldier who was hobbling about the room with the aid of a crutch,
"What's the matter with that man?"
"Raiders," was the sententious reply.
"Been in a fight?" asked Bob.
The young soldier nodded his head.
"How long since?"
"Last full moon."
"I hope these fights don't occur very often."
"Well, they do--much oftener than I wish they did. I have been in two
pretty hard ones, and that's enough for me. I suppose we shall have
more of them now, for I understand that we have received orders to
follow the raiders across the river and thrash them wherever they can
be found."
"Were you wounded in one of those fights?" asked Bob. "Then you
must be sick," he added when the boy shook his head.
"Yes, I am sick," was the reply--"homesick and sick at heart. I have
been in the army nearly two years and a half, and I don't see how I can
live to serve out the rest of my time. I am dying by inches."
"What did you come into the army for, anyhow?"
"Because I was a fool," answered the young soldier bitterly.
"Shake," exclaimed Bob, extending his hand; "I came in for the same
reason."
"Did your parents give their consent?" asked his new acquaintance.
"No, they didn't. They live in Mississippi, and don't know anything

about it."
Bob's long tramp had taken a good deal of spirit out of him, and
somehow he could not muster up energy enough to tell any more
falsehoods concerning himself.
"My parents live in Ohio," said the soldier.
"Then how in the world did you happen to stray down here to Texas?"
asked Bob.
"I ran away from home."
"Shake," said Bob, again extending his hand; "that's just what I did."
The two runaways shook each other's hands in the most cordial manner,
and instantly all reserve between them vanished. They were
companions in misery and united by a bond of sympathy. The young
soldier at once became very communicative. He had closely guarded
his secret for more than two years, because there was not one among
the rough men by whom he was surrounded who could understand or
appreciate his feelings. But here was one who could sympathize with
him, and it was a great relief to him to know that he could speak freely
and run no risk of being laughed at for his weakness.
"My name is Gus Robbins," said he, moving up a little closer to Bob
and speaking in a low, confidential tone. "I had as good a home as any
boy need wish for, but I wasn't contented there; still, I don't believe that
I ever should have left it as I did if circumstances had not smoothed the
way for me. My father is the senior partner in the largest dry-goods
store in Foxboro', and he had in his employ two persons, father and son,
who are in a great measure responsible for all the trouble I have got
into. The buy was a clerk like myself, and his father was our
bookkeeper. They had a very wealthy relative, a rancheman, living here
in Texas, and when that relative died it was found that he had willed his
property to our bookkeeper, to be held in trust for his (the rancheman's)
son. They came to Texas to take charge of the estate, and after a while I
received a letter from Ned (that was the boy's name) inviting me to pay

him a visit. As he sent me money enough to bear the expenses of the
journey, I came; and I am very sorry for it. We got ourselves into
trouble by shooting some cattle that had broken into Ned's wheat-field,
and had to dig out for Brownsville at a gallop. Ned went squarely back
on me, and as I had no money to pay my way home, and hadn't the
cheek to ask my father for it, I did what I thought to be the next best
thing--I enlisted. I am very sorry for that too, for there was where I
made my mistake. I ought to have gone back into the country and hired
out to some stock-raiser. Then I could have gone home as soon as I had
earned and saved money enough to take me there; but now I must stay
my time out; that is, unless--"
Gus paused and looked at Bob. The latter understood him. Here was
another fellow who had made up his mind to desert at the first
opportunity.
"Don't do that," said Bob, earnestly. "You'll only get yourself into
trouble if you attempt it."
"I don't care if I am shot for it. I'll make a break for liberty the very first
good chance