George at the Fort | Page 8

I get."
The tone in which these words were uttered satisfied Bob that it would
be of no use whatever to argue the matter. It was plain that Gus had
made up his mind after mature deliberation, and that he was not to be
easily turned from his purpose.
"Where did your friend Ned go after you reached Brownsville?" asked
Bob, who was much interested in the young soldier's story.
"I don't know; I left him at the hotel. He will come to some bad end,
and so will his father, for they are both rascals. The property of which
they have charge, and which brings in a big fortune every year,
rightfully belongs to George Ackerman, Ned's cousin; but Ned and his
father--"
"George Ackerman?" exclaimed Bob, starting up in his bunk.

Gus nodded his head, and looked at the recruit in great surprise.
"Is he a cub pilot?" continued the latter.
"'A cub pilot'?" repeated Gus. "No, he's a herdsman, or I ought rather to
say he was a herdsman. He had stock of his own worth six thousand
dollars. Where he is now I don't know, for on the morning after we left
his ranche, while we were camped in the edge of the timber making up
for the sleep we had lost the night before, we were surprised by a
couple of Greasers, who made a prisoner of George and carried him
across the river into Mexico. I don't know what they did with him, for
all George could induce them to say was that 'Fletcher wanted to see
him.'"
"It's the same fellow," exclaimed Bob, rising from his blanket and
seating himself on the edge of the bunk by his companion's side. "He
told me all about it, but his story was so very remarkable that I didn't
know whether to believe it or not. He gave those Greasers the slip,
secured a berth as cub pilot on a Mississippi River steamer, and that
was where I found him."
With this introduction Bob went on to tell how he had saved George
from going to the bottom when Uncle John Ackerman pushed him
overboard from the Sam Kendall; related all the thrilling incidents
connected with the burning of the steamer; described how Uncle John
had tried to separate them in New Orleans; in short, he gave a truthful
account of his intercourse with the cub pilot up to the time he deserted
him in Galveston. Bob was heartily ashamed of that now, and could not
bear to speak of it.
"I became separated from him in some way--it is very easy to lose a
companion in the crowded streets of a city, you know--and that was the
last I saw of him," said Bob in conclusion; and when he told this he
forgot that he had afterward seen George go into a hotel accompanied
by Mr. Gilbert. "Then I didn't know what to do. I had no money; I was
hungry and sleepy, utterly discouraged; and, like you, I sought to end
my troubles by enlisting. I see now that I made a great mistake, but I
am going to serve faithfully during my term of enlistment, if I live. Is

George's ranche far from here?"
"I don't know, for I am not much acquainted with the country east of
here, never having scouted in that direction. It is about one hundred and
fifty miles from Palos, if you know where that is. As you are George's
friend, I am sorry that you enlisted, for I know that you are going to
have a hard time of it; but since you did enlist, I am glad you were
ordered to this post, for misery loves company, you know. Let's walk
out on the parade, where we can talk without danger of being overheard.
Perhaps you would like to take a look at the place which will always be
associated in your mind with the most unhappy days of your existence."
It was plain that Gus took a very gloomy view of things, and of course
his discouraging remarks made an impression upon Bob, although they
did not take away the interest he felt in his surroundings. Everything
was new to him, and he asked a great many questions as he and Gus
walked slowly around the parade toward the stables.
Fort Lamoine was situated on a high, rocky eminence which
overlooked the surrounding country for half a dozen miles or more in
every direction. The stockade, which enclosed about two acres of
ground, was built of upright logs deeply sunk in the earth. The tops
were sawed off level, and a heavy plate of timber, through which stout
wooden pins had been driven into the end of each log, held them firmly
in their place. The officers'