tramp of hosts behind him. And who knows how many bold spirits leaped at
once that night from acorns to stars; and if there was not more than one
who saw himself the war-god of the anxious nation behind--saw, maybe,
even the doors of the White House swing open at the conquering sound of
his coming feet. And, through the dreams of all, waved aimlessly the
mighty wand of the blind master--Fate--giving death to a passion for
glory here; disappointment bitter as death to a noble ambition there;
and there giving unsought fame where was indifference to death; and
then, to lend substance to the phantom of just deserts, giving a mortal
here and there the exact fulfilment of his dream.

Two toasts were drunk that night--one by the men who were to lead the
Rough Riders of the West.

"May the war last till each man meets death, wears a wound, or wins
himself better spurs."

And, in the hold of the same ship, another in whiskey from a tin cup
between two comrades:

"Bunkie," said Blackford, to a dare-devil like himself, "welcome to the
Spanish bullet that knocks for entrance here"--tapping his heart. Basil
struck the cup from his hand, and Blackford swore, laughed, and put his
arm around the boy.




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