"'"Go on! For God's sake go on!" Any delay there meant loss of the
whole outfit. Besides, the boys had more than they could manage,
Injuns on three sides.

"'We had a young Texan driving the last wagon. When I went down he
swung those six mules of his and came back up that trail into the
gut, where the bullets snapped like grasshoppers.

"'It was the prettiest bit of driving I ever saw, not to mention
nerve. He whirled the outfit between me and the bluff on two wheels,
yelling, "Climb on! Climb on! We ain't going to stay long!" I was
just able to make it onto the seat. In the turn they dropped one of
his wheelers. He ran out on the tongue and cut the brute loose. We
went rattling down the gulch behind five mules. All the time there
came out of that man's lungs the fiercest stream of profanity my ears
ever burned under. I was pretty sick for a few weeks, so I never got
a chance to thank that teamster. He certainly knew the mind of an
army mule, though. His name was--let me see--Wiggins--yes, Wiggins.

"'Oh, no it wasn't,' I breaks in, foolish; 'it was Joyce.'

"Then I stopped and felt like a kid, for the Colonel comes up and
shuts the circulation out of both my hands.

"'I wasn't sure of you, Bill,' he says, 'till I saw you preside over
those mules out there and heard your speech--then I recognized the
gift.' He laughed like a boy, still making free with my hands. 'I'm
darn glad to see you, Bill Joyce. Now then,' he says, 'tell me all
about this killing up in the hills,' and I done so.