"That's where I belong," he said, with a wave of his hand after the
retreating column. "I don't know one of them, and I know them all. I've
gone to college with some; I've hunted, fished, camped, drank, and
gambled with the others. I belong with them; and I'm going with them if
I can; I'm trying to get an exchange now."

"Well, luck to you, and good-by," said Crittenden, holding out his hand.
"I'm going home to-night."

"But you're coming back?"

"Yes."

Blackford hesitated.

"Are you going to join this outfit?"--meaning his own regiment.

"I don't know; this or the Rough Riders."

"Well," Blackford seemed embarrassed, and his manner was almost
respectful, "if we go together, what do you say to our going as
'bunkies'?"

"Sure!"

"Thank you."

The two men grasped hands.

"I hope you will come back."