He turned toward me and stared with an amused and tolerant grin. "He's
a bit like you," he said.

I saw he did not consider what he said as a compliment, but I was vain
enough to want to know what he did think of me, so I asked: "And in
what way am I like General Laguerre?"

The idea of our similarity seemed to amuse Aiken, for he continued to
grin.

"Oh, you'll see when we meet him," he said. "I can't explain it. You
two are just different from other people--that's all. He's old-
fashioned like you, if you know what I mean, and young--"

"Why, he's an old man," I corrected.

"He's old enough to be your grandfather," Aiken laughed, "but I say
he's young--like you, the way you are."

Aiken knew that it annoyed me when he pretended I was so much younger
than himself, and I had started on some angry reply, when I was
abruptly interrupted.

A tall, ragged man rose suddenly from behind a rock, and presented a
rifle. He was so close to Aiken that the rifle almost struck him in
the face. Aiken threw up his hands, and fell back with such a jerk
that he lost his balance, and would have fallen had he not pitched
forward and clasped the mule around the neck. I pulled my mule to a
halt, and held my hands as high as I could raise them. The man moved
his rifle from side to side so as to cover each of us in turn, and