"
It was like being dismissed from parade; a right-about-face, march!
command straight from the shoulder. Again I was overwhelmed with
thankfulness that the N. W. M. P. had no string on me; I never took
orders from anybody in that tone of voice, and I wanted to shake a
defiant fist under the autocratic major's nose and tell him so. I had
sense enough to see that the time and place was unpropitious for
starting an argument of that sort, so I kept an unperturbed front and
went about my business.
CHAPTER X.
THE VANISHING ACT, AND THE FRUITS THEREOF.
Being aware that it was near the time Goodell had named for starting, I
returned to the stables, and, getting my horse, rode to the commissary.
There I found Goodell engineering the final preparations. Four men,
besides myself, made up the party: the sergeant, Hicks the
hairy-wristed, another private, and a half-breed scout. They were
lashing an allowance of food and blankets on a pack-horse, and two other
horses with bare _aparejos_ on their backs were tied to the horn of the
breed's saddle--for what purpose I could easily guess.
While I sat on my _caballo_ waiting for them to tie the last hitch a
rattle of wheels and the thud of hoofs drew near, and presently a blue
wagon, drawn by four big mules and flanked by half a dozen Mounted
Policemen, passed by the commissary building.
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