"But, gee whiz, we can't take her on a hike like this," protested
the sergeant. "She'll be in the way, and she'll give out, and all
that. Besides, what would we do with a woman around all the time?"

"I fancy she can hike all right," said Graydon. "Major March wouldn't
expect us to leave her behind. That would be heartless."

By the time the party and guides was ready to start on its forced
march, the opinion, unanimously expressed was that Teresa Velasquez
should go forward also, come what might. She had pleaded so hard
and so effectually that the men were fairly swept off their feet
in a storm of sympathy.

"If she gives out we'll carry her," roared a deeply impressed young
man with long red whiskers.

"And when we get up to the command we'll make them derned
correspondents take turn about walkin', so she can ride a pony all
the time. They've got no business ridin', anyhow."

And so with rosy confidence in the fitness of things and a just
belief in the charity of Major March, the detachment marched out
into the hills, the ward of the company trudging bravely beside
the tall and envied Mr. Bansemer--who, by the way, aside from being
politely attentive, did not exhibit any undue signs of exaltation.

The presence of a woman--and a very pretty one at that, with
a sadness in her eyes that was appealing--served only to send his
thoughts bounding back to the girl he had left behind. He grew more