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ROBIN'S RECRUIT. 
 
1 
 
 ^^ 
 
 3 
 O 
 
 _bJD 
 
 
Robins 
 
 Recruit. m.^y 
 
 BY 
 
 A. G. PLYMPTON, 
 
 AUTHOR OF 
 
 ■'Dear Daughter Dorothy,"'' "'Betty, a 
 
 Butterfly,'' " The Little Sister 
 
 of Wilifredr 
 
 Hlustratcti 62 tijc 'lutljor. 
 
 BOSTON: 
 ROBERTS BROTHERS. 
 1893. 
 
Copyright, 1893, 
 By a. G. Plympton, 
 
 ^ntbfrsttg Press: 
 John Wilson and Son, Cambridge, U.S.A. 
 
m4- 
 
 ! DEDICATED 
 
 WILLi(aM, /VERNON CHICKERING RUXTON. 
 
 ivi637318 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 Chapter Page 
 
 I. Robin 9 
 
 II. Among the Rose-bushes 24 
 
 III. The Accident 43 
 
 IV. An Impatient Patient 63 
 
 V. On the Chaparral 76 
 
 VI. A Sad Birthday 92 
 
 VII. Doogan's Story in 
 
 VIII. Early Experiences 129 
 
 IX. A Deserting Soldier .,.,,. 145 
 
 X. Danger 158 
 
 XI. Conclusion 176 
 
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 ♦ 
 
 Page 
 " Ride straight round once, young Man " Frontispiece 
 
 Doogan 9 
 
 " I think you have the loveliest Eyes of any Lady 
 
 in the Regiment " 28 
 
 Susannah 31 
 
 Sergeant Corrigan's House in Soapsuds Row . 44 
 
 By the Creek 47 
 
 Bob Corrigan .,.....,.,.. 48 
 
 " It was just at Guard mount " 64 
 
 " Being wheeled about the Post " 78 
 
 " I ain't going to have any Man sprawling on 
 
 the Parade-ground, picking Flowers for 7ne " 90 
 
 " He had laid his Head on his Arms, trying to 
 
 hide his Mortification " loi 
 
 '- Was enough to make one's best Friend wince " 104 
 
 '• Sitting by the disused Blacksmith 's Shop " .114 
 
 " Doogan sat moodily by himself on the Barrack 
 
 Porch "' 146 
 
 " It made her Heart ache to look at this little, 
 quiet Shadow of her once active, rugged 
 
 Boy" 161 
 
ROBIN'S RECRUIT, 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 ROBIN. 
 
 VrOBODY ever 
 could tell why 
 Robin cared so much 
 for Doogan. Every 
 one else at Fort Ca- 
 rey had a bad word 
 for the young 
 >-^. soldier, and it 
 must be admit- 
 ted that there 
 '^ //'/y were many glar- 
 
 DooGAN. ing defects in 
 
 his character. 
 " He s got a hard face on him, and 
 
 a terrible vicious eye," said Sergeant 
 
lo Robins Recruit, 
 
 Corrigan to the captain. " I reckon 
 he '11 prove troublesome." 
 
 But let us begin at the very beginning, 
 on the morning when Robin first saw 
 Doogan among the recruits. 
 
 The children were standing near the 
 building called headquarters, which 
 fronted the north side of the parade- 
 p-round. Guard-mount was just over, 
 and the bugler's last notes were piercing 
 the air as the bandsmen marched away 
 to their quarters. Some recruits who 
 had been brought to Fort Carey the 
 previous night were now waiting at 
 headquarters to be assigned to the 
 different companies, and the children 
 were discussing the appearance of the 
 men. 
 
 " I choose that big one at the end of 
 the line," said Robin ; " I hope he '11 
 belong to B Company." 
 
Robin. 1 1 
 
 *' Why, that man is the scrubbiest of 
 the whole lot. I would n't choose him^,' 
 said Arnold. " He looks horrid." 
 
 The other children agreed with 
 Arnold, who went on, — 
 
 " See what an ugly red face he has ; 
 and when he scowls — there, see, he is 
 scowling now at the orderly. He 's no 
 
 good." 
 
 " Perhaps the orderly has done some- 
 thing that ought to be scowled at. I 'm 
 sure that recruit is a first-rate fellow. 
 Just see how straight and tall he is, — 
 makes the others look like dwarfs. My, 
 but he is strong, though! I tell you, 
 Arnold, he looks like poor Brown, that 
 got killed fighting Indians when we 
 were out in Dakota. Yes, sir; this 
 recruit is splendid and strong and big 
 and brave, just like Brown." 
 
 In his earnestness Robin's voice rose 
 
12 Robins Recruit. 
 
 hio"h. The little fellow was carried 
 away by his enthusiasm ; and the more 
 he talked, the more he admired the 
 young recruit, whose splendid physique 
 had caught his boyish fancy. Having 
 no better material, Robin could always 
 make heroes out of very common clay, 
 for heroes to worship was a necessity of 
 his nature. He saw virtues more easily 
 than faults, and he clung to his own 
 generous opinion against that of colder 
 and more experienced persons. It may 
 be that with his warm, loving heart he 
 discovered many truths these sharp 
 people missed. 
 
 The little squad of men, of whom 
 Robin's recruit formed one, were now 
 being marched away to the soldiers' 
 barracks, and presently turned in to 
 the last one of the row. These were 
 the quarters of Company B, of which 
 
Robin. 1 3 
 
 Robin's father was captain, and which 
 Robin called his. 
 
 " Well, my father will have one good 
 one this time. He says the worst ones 
 usually fall to him," said Robin, and 
 after a pause he went on, — 
 
 " I wonder how those men like the 
 looks of Texas. They came from New 
 York, you know. It 's sort of different 
 here." He looked reflectively over the 
 landscape, with its stretches of scraggy 
 plains lying so quiet and featureless 
 under a wide blue sky, while at the 
 same time memory called up the picture 
 of the great city which he had once 
 visited. " I wonder if they know how 
 hot it 's going to be." 
 
 " And about the tarantulas," said 
 Arnold ; " my cousin never saw one till 
 she came here." 
 
 " And the rattlesnakes." 
 
14 Robins Recruit. 
 
 ^ " And the centipedes," cried the 
 children, in an alarming chorus. 
 
 " We had a centipede in our house 
 yesterday," cried Edith, with a touch 
 of pride in her shrill little voice. " It 
 was a big one, and I helped kill .it. I 
 jumped round and screamed as loud 
 as I could while Hannah orot the tea- 
 kettle and poured boiling water on it. 
 It curled right up and died then, and 
 I took it out on a shovel. I w^as n't a 
 bit afraid." 
 
 There were no comments made on 
 Edith's bravery, for just at that moment 
 the children caught a glimpse of Lieu- 
 tenant Hall on his pretty black horse at 
 the other end of the long line of houses 
 where the families of the officers lived. 
 Sometimes this amiable young man took 
 the children in turns for a canter around 
 the parade-ground, so at sight of him 
 
Robin. 1 5 
 
 there was a simultaneous rush of little 
 trousered legs and a flutter of white 
 frocks. Robin made a movement as if 
 he would follow them, but finally sat 
 down on the parade-ground. 
 
 He was a beautiful boy, with soft dark 
 eyes that sometimes flashed gloriously, 
 and a clear skin through which, when 
 he was much moved, the hot color 
 always burned. His head was covered 
 with short brown curls that now in the 
 brig^ht sunshine shone s^olden. As a 
 little child he had been remarkable for 
 strength and spirit. The men of Com- 
 pany B told many a tale of those wild 
 days in the Indian country, when at the 
 age of three he had first joined them : 
 how at four o'clock every morning at 
 reveille, his name being called by the 
 sergeant, the little fellow would be in his 
 place at the end of the line, — Private 
 
1 6 Robins Recruit, 
 
 Clancy, with figure erect, head up, and 
 serious, stolid face. On pay-day he was 
 paid regularly with the men, — five 
 cents from the paymaster's own pocket. 
 Once, — this was a favorite anecdote in 
 B Company, — when the men were 
 being vaccinated, the soft baby arm of 
 Master Robin was presented in turn 
 with the brawny arms of the soldiers, 
 and he would not go away until he had 
 shared this duty. 
 
 But while this child's play was 
 allowed at that little two-company post 
 where Captain Clancy was then stationed, 
 in the large garrison at Fort Carey, with 
 stern old Colonel Bisby commanding, 
 no such unmilitary performances were 
 possible. The men were very sorry for 
 Robin, who used frequently to go down 
 to the barracks and bewail his expulsion 
 from the ranks, but in reality he no 
 
Robin, I n 
 
 longer had the strength to bear his 
 former self-imposed hardships; whether 
 in his ambition to perform all a soldier's 
 duty he had overtaxed himself at the 
 old post, or whether the hot Texas sun 
 was enfeebling his blood, which in the 
 clear, cold air of the northwest had 
 danced so joyously through his veins, or 
 whether too many thoughts were hum- 
 ming through his little head, no one 
 knew, but it was clear that Robin was 
 growing more delicate in spirit and 
 body. Each morning, awakened bv the 
 morning gun which is fired at the first 
 note of reveille, he would start up as if 
 to obey the call, and wistfully follow the 
 notes of the buglers marching around 
 the garrison, and then with a sio-h of 
 relief would drop his head again upon 
 the pillow. 
 
i8 
 
 Robins Recruit. 
 
 REVEILLE. 
 
 Quick. 
 
 't get 'em up, 
 
 I can't get 'em up, 
 
 an't get 'em up this morning ; I can't get 'em up, 
 
 End- 
 
 End. 
 
 =fE&=P^p=3^ESE3 
 
 can't get 'em up, I can't get 'em up at all. 
 
 ^_rirr^ 
 
 
 The corp'ral is worse than the pri - vate. The 
 
 jreant 's worse than the cor - p 
 lieut. 's worse than the ser - geant, And the 
 
. Robin. 19 
 
 Directly opposite that part of the 
 parade-ground where Robin sat, the 
 major's wife was talking to the doctor; 
 and as the children scampered past 
 them along the line, she said, — 
 
 " Do look at Robin Clancy ; I wonder 
 what does make him so lanofuid." 
 
 " Well, you know, dear little Mrs. 
 Clancy has n't an idea how to bring up 
 a child," joined in Mrs. Merton, who was 
 leaning over her gate. " I dined there 
 yesterday, and Robin was allowed to 
 have fried oysters, plum-cake, cheese, 
 and coffee ; and when in the evening he 
 was sick his mother said to Susannah : 
 ' There now, Susannah, I knew he 
 would be sick when I saw you o-ivino- 
 him that cold water' '^ 
 
 The doctor laughed, and then raising 
 his cap to the two ladies, crossed over 
 to where Robin still sat. 
 
 " Well, little man," he said, stooping 
 
20 Robins Recruit, 
 
 down by the child's side, " did n't you 
 want to go with the other children? " 
 
 " Why, yes," answered Robin, " / did, 
 but my legs did n't. They are awful 
 lazy feeling somehow lately, but I won't 
 stand it. I 'm going to begin now, and 
 make 'em go. That 's what legs are forr 
 
 " Well, I would n't be too severe," 
 said the doctor. " I think they ought 
 to be indulged just now, and have plenty 
 of rest." But this advice roused all 
 Robin's boyish impatience. 
 
 " They are my legs, and I say they 
 shall go," he said rather crossly. 
 
 The doctor only smiled in response 
 to Robin's vehemence, and dropping the 
 irritating subject, inquired if he took the 
 medicine regularly that he had sent to 
 him. 
 
 "Ye-es," was the rather hesitating 
 reply. " That is, I did n't take it at 
 first. I kept forgetting it, but I 'm 
 
Robin. 2 1 
 
 taking it regularly now. I began this 
 morning." 
 
 The doctor shook his head over this 
 unsatisfactory patient, but he could not 
 scold him; for after his little burst of 
 temper Robin had flung an arm around 
 his friend's neck, and was looking into 
 his eyes with that slow, warm smile that 
 was so mao;netic. 
 
 Then, just at that moment, there was 
 a clatter of a horse's hoofs and shouts 
 of laughter, as Lieutenant Hall, with 
 little Edith beside him, rode along the 
 parade-ground, followed by the clam- 
 orous children. 
 
 When he reached Robin and the 
 doctor, he held in his horse, saying : 
 
 " Hallo, boy, why did n't you come for 
 a trot ? Want to go 1 " 
 
 Robin was as much at ease on a 
 horse as on a chair, and the lieutenant, 
 after handing Edith to the doctor, 
 
2 2 Robins Recruit, 
 
 jumped off and slung him up into the 
 saddle, and Robin caught up the reins 
 and cantered gayly away. 
 
 " Ride straight round once, young 
 man ! " screamed the lieutenant after 
 him; "mind you go no farther;" and 
 Robin waved his hand as an assurance 
 of obedience. " He rides like an Arab. 
 Nice boy ; a little peaked, though, lately. 
 Can't you chirk him up, Doctor ? " 
 
 But the doctor shook his head and 
 scowled, after a fashion he had when 
 he did not wish to be questioned, and 
 presently walked away toward Captain 
 Clancy's quarters. 
 
 Meantime Robin was clattering past 
 the barracks, — his white linen suit 
 accented against the glossy black skin 
 of the horse, his curly head, with its 
 jaunty red fez, thrown well back, his 
 eyes flashing, — a little atom of joyful 
 life in the gay morning sunshine. 
 
Robin. 23 
 
 " Who is that Httle kid ? " asked 
 Doogan, who was standing by his quar- 
 ters watching the boy with those eyes 
 that Sergeant Corrigan had called 
 vicious. " He ain't bad to look at." 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 AMONG THE ROSE-BUSHES. 
 
 " T WISH you would send one of the 
 men to dig round my roses," said 
 Mrs. Clancy to the captain the next 
 morning at the breakfast table. 
 
 " One of the recruits is a rose cul- 
 turer, so he says," answered the captain. 
 " I '11 send Imn up." 
 
 " Oh," said Robin, " maybe it 's my 
 man, — the one I chose yesterday. I 
 hope so. What sort of a looking man 
 is he, father } " 
 
 " Well, my boy, nobody in his senses 
 would ever choose this one, — an ugly 
 fellow that I shall have trouble with. 
 
Amo7ior tJie Rose-bushes. 25 
 
 Such men ought not to be enlisted, for 
 they are a disgrace to the army,'' 
 
 " Well, anyway, you have one good 
 recruit," said Robin, cheerfully. ^' My 
 man won't be a disgrace to the army. 
 What 's the rose culturer's name 1 " 
 
 ''It's Doogan, — John Doogan. 
 A-h-h-h ! what a fellow ! " 
 
 The captain pushed his chair from 
 the table as if the very thought of the 
 man took away his appetite, and pres- 
 ently went out. 
 
 That Captain Clancy w^as the hand- 
 somest and finest officer in the 
 
 infantry, was the unreserved opinion of 
 Mrs. Clancy and her son Robin. To 
 speak with more moderation, he was a 
 fine-looking officer with an air of com- 
 mand and a proud step, as if conscious 
 that he would never walk away from his 
 duty. He was a strict disciplinarian, 
 
26 Robins Recruit, 
 
 but it is no light task to control so 
 many rough, turbulent men as were 
 under his command. Some of them 
 drank ; some were insubordinate ; and 
 now and then one deserted. Lieuten- 
 ant Hall and Lieutenant Spaulding, the 
 two other officers of Company B, did 
 not take these sins of the men on their 
 own consciences, but Robin sympathized 
 entirely with his father. 
 
 " This fellow I chose won't do any of 
 those horrid things," Robin asserted, 
 with an air of pride, as he and his 
 mother left the table together, "' and he 
 is so splendid and big. I like men to 
 be big, and women to be little." 
 
 He stopped to give a gentle kiss to 
 the little woman at his side, and then 
 went on, — 
 
 " Is n't it lucky we got him } I was 
 so afraid he would belong to some other 
 
Among the Rose-bushes. 27 
 
 company. There, there 's the call for 
 inspection. If you '11 come out on the 
 porch, I '11 point him out to you, for the 
 recruits will be standino^ round lookino: 
 on. 
 
 " You must think, sweetheart, I have 
 good eyes, to be able to see clear across 
 the parade-ground." 
 
 " I think you have the loveliest eyes 
 of any lady in the regiment," the boy 
 answered, looking admiringly into the 
 eyes of which his own were faithful 
 copies. " Everybody says so — no, not 
 everybody, because Arnold says his 
 mother 's are the handsomest. It 's funny 
 how a fellow always thinks his mother 
 is handsome. I don't mean me, of 
 course, because you are, but other 
 fellows. You are not only the hand- 
 somest, but the best." 
 
 " Well, I ought to be a good mother," 
 
28 
 
 Robin's Recruit. 
 
 (T^ 
 
 " I think you have the loveliest eyes of any lady in the regiment." 
 
Amo7ig tJie Rose-bushes. 29 
 
 said Mrs. Clancy, pulling Robin into her 
 lap, " when I have such a dear little son." 
 " Land ! there you two are at it again. 
 Love-makin' ! " exclaimed tlie disgusted 
 voice of Susannah, who was clearing: 
 away the breakfast dishes. " It 's awful 
 for a woman of good, plain everyday 
 feelin's, with no fancy trimmin's to 
 'em, to have to hear it a-goin' on all the 
 time. When it ain't you an' Robin, 
 it 's you an' the capt'n, an' every evenin' 
 it 's that silly Rosy an' William Henry 
 Fudsre in the kitchen. I never saw 
 such a house as this. Last evenin', the 
 air bein' pretty heavy with it here, I 
 went over to Mrs. Brown's, thinkin' 
 't would be a relief to set awhile 
 with some sensible middle-aged body, an' 
 if there was n't Sarev an' that Smith 
 that 's keepin' company with her, a-hand- 
 squeezin' together on the doorstep." 
 
30 Robin s Recruit. 
 
 " Oh, my lovely Susannah, give us one 
 of your sweet kisses," cried Robin, 
 throwing his arms around the waist of 
 the old servant. He could n't forbear 
 to tease Susannah, and followed her 
 about the room, blowing kisses at her 
 and calling her extravagant, fond names. 
 
 Susannah was a privileged person in 
 the Clancy family. She w'ould willingly 
 have gone to the stake for any one of 
 them, but she intended as long as she 
 lived here below to speak her mind with 
 perfect freedom to everybody, and par- 
 ticularly to Miss Maggy, as she called 
 Robin's mother, whom she had taken 
 care of since her babyhood, and w^iom 
 she still regarded as a child. 
 
 " Go along with you, Robin," she said. 
 " Go to your mother. She can stand 
 any amount of such nonsense. I must 
 say, Miss Maggy," — here Susannah set 
 
Amon£ the Rose-bushes. 
 
 31 
 
 a dish down hard and turned round 
 with her arms akimbo, — " I must say I 
 don't Hke them words you an' the capt'n 
 (an' now Robin has caught 'em) uses 
 so free, Hke 
 darhn' an' dear- 
 est an' — an 
 sweetheart. 
 That last is aw- 
 ficll' said Su- 
 sannah, with a 
 shudder. "In 
 my opinion a 
 man should n't 
 ever allow him- 
 self to go beyond 
 dear before folks. Now, Robin, suppose 
 you leave off kissin' your ma an' come 
 an' take your medicine." 
 
 '' I 'd rather kiss my ma," answered 
 Robin, roguishly, but he followed poor 
 Susannah into the kitchen. 
 
 Susannah 
 
32 Robins Reci^uit. 
 
 Presently he returned with the infor* 
 mation that the man had come to die 
 round the rose-bushes, and was already 
 at w^ork in the garden. 
 
 " He is my man, after all," said Robin, 
 " and I 'm going out to talk to him. Look 
 out the window and see what a splendid 
 strong fellow he is." 
 
 " Is that your much-talked-of man ? " 
 cried Susannah, who had come in 
 behind Robin and now looked curiously 
 from behind the window-curtain over 
 her mistress's shoulder. " He looks like 
 a jail-bird, or zutiss, if there be such. I 
 would n't trust that critter with a fly." 
 
 Robin being already out of the room, 
 there was no one to stand up for poor 
 Doogan. Mrs. Clancy said, — 
 
 " Oh, Susannah, he is rousrh-lookinQr. 
 I don't like to have Robin out there 
 with him." 
 
Among the Rose-bushes, 33 
 
 " Well, keep your eye on the pair of 
 'em every minute," Susannah advised. 
 " I 've got to go back to the kitchen." 
 
 Dashing out into the little enclosure 
 in front of the house, Robin shouted a 
 blithe good-morning to Doogan, who 
 was standing with his back to him 
 spading up a flower-bed, and who re- 
 turned his pleasant greeting in a dis- 
 couragingly gruff tone. 
 
 He was a magnificently made creature 
 of fine proportions, and an air of great 
 strength, but in his bold black eyes there 
 was an ugly, defiant look. Hardly more 
 than a boy, he already seemed to have 
 lived some rough, lawless life in which 
 his hand had been against every man 
 and every man's hand against him. 
 
 But little Robin saw nothing of this, 
 and stood watching him with a look of 
 pride and proprietorship. At length, 
 
34 Robins Recruit. 
 
 by way of conversation, he remarked : 
 " My father says you 're a rose-cul- 
 turer. It sounds like a nice business, 
 but beino- a soldier is even nicer. How 
 do you think you '11 like being a 
 soldier? " 
 
 Doogan growled an answer that was 
 quite unintelligible to Robin ; but there 
 was no mistaking the meaning of his 
 scowl, and his tone implied that the 
 taste he had had of soldiering was any- 
 thing but satisfactory. 
 
 " Well, I hope you '11 like it," Robin 
 said. " I 'm so glad you are in our 
 company. It was funny, was n't it, but 
 I chose you right in the beginning } " 
 
 " Chose me," repeated Doogan, for 
 the first time bestowing a look upon 
 his companion. 
 
 " Yes, I chose you out of all the 
 recruits," said Robin, smiling. 
 
Ainong the Rose-bitshes, 35 
 
 " What for ? " questioned Doogan. 
 
 "Because," answered Robin, — "be- 
 cause I liked your looks." 
 
 " Cos he liked my looks ! " 
 
 Doogan smiled a queer sort of a 
 smile, and then added, — • 
 
 " Well, there ain't any accountin' for 
 taste, but mind you, sonny, beauty is 
 only skin deep." 
 
 " It was n't so much that, but I 
 thought you were kind of good and 
 pleasant," Robin explained. " Big 
 fellows are usually kind. I suppose it 's 
 because they feel sorry for other people 
 that are so much weaker." 
 
 " I never see a more discernin' little 
 chap. You ought to go into the dertec- 
 tive business when you grow up. Bein' 
 able to judge so accurate of character, 
 you 'd jest make yer mark." 
 
 " Thank you," said Robin, who be- 
 
36 Robins Recruit. 
 
 lieved himself complimented, " but I 'm 
 going to be an army-officer, so I can't 
 be a — er — what was it you said ? " 
 
 " Dertective," suggested Doogan. 
 " Well, the perfession has lost an orna- 
 ment, that's all. An' so you thought 
 I was good an' pleasant, did you ? " 
 
 " Yes," answered Robin, promptly, '^ I 
 did. I told my father about you. I 
 told him he had got one recruit, any- 
 how, that would n't drink or do any 
 of the things that make so much 
 trouble." 
 
 " Sech a discernin' little chap !" again 
 murmured Doogan. " An' what did yer 
 pa say ? " 
 
 " I don't remember what he said, but 
 he was awfully glad, of course. He 
 did n't know which you were, though." 
 
 Robin stopped in confusion, suddenly 
 realizing what his father had said about 
 
Amo7ig the Rose-biishes. 37 
 
 Doosran before knowino; that he was the 
 recruit of his son's choice ; but Doogan 
 did not notice Robin's confusion, and 
 went on, — 
 
 " Yes, I 'm about as good an' pleasant 
 a feller as he 's likely to find. The 
 trouble is, I "m most too good. I don't 
 want to do nothin' all day but to read 
 tracks." 
 
 "Oh, but there is so much to be 
 done, you know,'" said the boy, doubt- 
 fully. " There 's drillino; and taro^et 
 
 ^ (DO 
 
 practice and — and ever so many things. 
 A soldier has to work pretty hard, I 
 think." 
 
 " Well I ain't any objection to 
 workin'. I 'm willin', jest perfectly 
 willin' to work — say a couple o' hours 
 every other Wednesday." 
 
 " Oh, you 're joking." said Robin, with 
 an air of relief. '' I like people that 
 
38 Robins Recruit. 
 
 joke, but I really thought you were in 
 earnest about the tracks. How did you 
 come to enlist ? " 
 
 " Yer see I 'd heard that soldiers was 
 a pretty rough lot, an' I thought my 
 example might do 'em good. 'Twas, as 
 you may say, from a sense of dooty. 
 There now," — Doogan interrupted him- 
 self, — " these roses oughter do well." 
 
 " The trouble most years is that they 
 bloom too early, and a norther comes 
 along and nips all the buds," ex- 
 claimed Robin. 
 
 "' I hope they won't be sech bloomin' 
 idiots this year," said Doogan, chuck- 
 ling over his joke, as he drove the spade 
 into the hard earth and turned it over 
 with an ease that was much admired by 
 his companion. 
 
 "You're just awful strong, are n't 
 you ? " the boy said presently. " I suppose 
 
Among the Rose-bushes. 39 
 
 your legs don't ever shake when you try 
 to run, and something that 's queer inside 
 of you does n't flutter and make you 
 dizzy ? " 
 
 " Well, no ; them sensations you 
 speak of ain't common with me," an- 
 swered Doogan, still with that curious 
 little chuckle of his. But suddenly he 
 left off digging, and turning round, 
 looked thoughtfully at Robin, saying, 
 " I hope you ain't describin' any feel- 
 in's of your own." 
 
 And then he burst out crossly, " I 'd 
 like to know what that grave-face doctor 
 that 's a-kickin' his heels down at the 
 hospittal is about not to give you some- 
 thing to set you up." 
 
 "Oh, he has given me something; 
 and I 'm not exactly sick, Doogan, only 
 sort of shaky. I would n't think any- 
 thing of it, I suppose, only I used to be 
 
40 Robiiis Recruit. 
 
 so strong. Why, I never thought of 
 my legs, and did n't know I had that 
 queer thing that flutters. Sometimes 
 I think perhaps I deserve it because I 
 used to be such a bully." 
 
 "An' how was you a bully .^ " asked 
 Doogan, with flattering interest. 
 
 " Oh, I was always fighting. I used 
 to stay at the barracks a good deal, and 
 whenever a boy came along, the men 
 would say, — 
 
 "'Hullo, here comes Johnny Green' 
 (or whoever the boy was). ' I say, Robin, 
 he can lick you ; ' and then, you know, 
 I felt obliged to fight. To tell the truth," 
 Robin went on confidentially, " I did n't 
 want to fight. I was afraid — just a 
 very little afraid — the other boy might 
 hurt me, and I did n't care so particu- 
 larly about hurting him, though of 
 course if one of us had to be hurt, I 
 
Among the Rose-dtiskes. 41 
 
 did n't want it to be me. But I mean 
 to be a soldier, and I can't be a coward ; 
 when I thought of that I 'd always 
 pitch in." 
 
 " You seem to have given up the 
 occypation now," observed Doogan. 
 " How 's that ? " 
 
 " Why, you see, my father explained 
 to me that if a brave man fights, it 's for 
 some good cause, and not just for the 
 sake of fighting. It 's lucky for me 
 there are other ways of showing one's 
 courage," said Robin, I'ather soberly, 
 "for most any fellow could whip me 
 now. There are other wavs ; don't vou 
 think so, Doogan } " 
 
 " Lots of 'em, — jest heaps," said 
 Doogan, consolingly. " I wish I could 
 give you some of my strength. I might 
 spare enough to set up a little chap like 
 you, an' never be the wuss for it." 
 
42 Robins Recruit. 
 
 But Robin protested against this. 
 " It would be a pity for you to lose any 
 q{ your strength," he said. " I should n't 
 want to take it. You are going to do 
 so much for the men, you know." 
 
 Doogan's work among the rose-bushes 
 was finished, and he was gathering to- 
 gether his tools, but he looked from 
 under his heavy brow at Robin, and 
 said earnestly, — 
 
 " See here, little un ; all I said to you 
 was jest stuff. 'T warn't true, — not a 
 word of it. I 'm a terrible ugly fellow, 
 a bad lot, not fit to be gassin' here with 
 an innercent little chap like you. An' 
 I '11 take it kindly — for your own sake, 
 mind yer — if you '11 jest keep clear o' 
 me in the future." 
 
R 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE ACCIDENT. 
 
 OBIN looked admirinoly after the 
 
 '&' 
 
 splendid figure of Doogan as he 
 strode away across the parade-ground. 
 What the recruit had said made little 
 impression upon him, for he disposed of 
 the whole question on the ground that 
 modesty is the sister of virtue. 
 
 " I 'm sure he 's a good man, — this 
 Doogan," he said to himself. ^' I 'm 
 going to hunt up Sergeant Corrigan, 
 and see what he has to say about him." 
 
 Sergeant Corrigan and Robin were 
 old friends, the tie between them beine 
 their devotion to Company B. Often 
 they had long, confidential talks on the 
 character of the men, about whom they 
 
44 Robiiis Recruit. 
 
 sometimes quarrelled, the sergeant hold- 
 ing dark views, born of a hard experi- 
 ence, on this subject. 
 
 Corrigan had married Robin's former 
 nurse, and the boy considered himself a 
 friend of the family, takino: a orodfatherlv 
 
 
 '>iiii>.T 
 
 Sergeant Corrigan's House in Soapsuds Row. 
 
 sort of interest in the young Corrigans. 
 The sergeant lived in one of the line of 
 houses called Soapsuds Row, the resi- 
 dences of the regimental laundresses. 
 Although he had been a long time in 
 the service, and, being of an unusually 
 frugal nature, was in very comforta- 
 ble circumstances, his wife sometimes 
 earned at the wash-tub extra comforts, 
 " — such as window-shades for her parlor, 
 
The Accident. 45 
 
 or shoes for her boys, these articles 
 being considered enervating luxuries by 
 her more economical husband; and that 
 morning when Robin came in search of 
 the sergeant, Mary's cheerful Irish face 
 greeted him over a steaming tub of 
 soldiers' shirts. The baby was asleep ; 
 but Master Robin Corrigan, our hero's 
 namesake, was skipping up and down 
 the room in excitement, having, after 
 nobody knows how many days of 
 patient angling, caught a small fish in 
 the creek. His tender-hearted mother 
 was vainly imploring him to return the 
 little fish to its native element. 
 
 " Sure, if I do I can't catch him ag'in 
 whin I 'm wantin' him," answered Bob, 
 with youthful foresight. " I 'd better 
 be killin' him now, an' whin I ate him 
 for me dinner, I '11 be sure of him." 
 
 "That kind of fish is n't good to eat," 
 said Robin. 
 
46 Robms Recruit. 
 
 " An' did ye iver ate one, thin ? " 
 asked Bob, shrewdly. 
 
 " Kill him, thin,the aisiest way, darlin'. 
 How? Well, sure, they say drownin' 
 do be the aisiest death of all," said his 
 mother, who was a wit in her way, 
 winking at Robin. " Go put him in the 
 crick, me swate bye." 
 
 But little Bob had already dropped 
 the fish in the tub of scalding suds, and 
 with indignant roughness, Mary turned 
 him out of doors. The skirmish woke 
 up the baby, who doubled the noise by 
 his cries. Mary took him up, and set- 
 tling him in his carriage, asked Robin 
 if he would not, for friendship's sake, 
 take him out of doors. 
 
 Robin could have devised a more 
 agreeable employment for himself than 
 taking Baby Corrigan for an airing. 
 He privately regretted having placed 
 
The Accident. 
 
 47 
 
 himself within Mary's reach; but he 
 was an obliging boy, and did not like 
 to refuse. 
 
 Down the hill, just below Soapsuds 
 
 -*- ^^ . 
 
 
 
 .v^ 
 
 ^vv.: 
 
 Vv*«LW^^^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 By the Creek. 
 
 
 Row, winds the lovely little stream 
 called Las Moras. Its banks are cov- 
 ered with verdure, so that its course is 
 
48 
 
 Robin's Recruit. 
 
 like a fresh green ribbon along the dry, 
 arid chaparral, or bush country, that 
 surrounds Fort Carey. The live-oaks, 
 often fringed with moss, overhang the 
 creek, upon whose smooth green water 
 glisten the white geese. 
 
 The banks of the stream were a fa- 
 vorite play-ground 
 of the laundresses' 
 children; and 
 there Robin found 
 Bob Corrio^an, who 
 had comforted 
 himself for the loss 
 of his fish by the 
 capture of one of 
 his mother's finest 
 roosters. He 
 called to Robin to 
 come and help 
 L^C^^^''" him teach the 
 rooster to swim, so 
 
 Bob Corrigan. 
 
The Accideitt. 49 
 
 that he could enjoy himself on the 
 creek with the geese. 
 
 This novel and apparently benevolent 
 project attracted Robin, who at once 
 guided the perambulator down the bank 
 to where his young friend stood. 
 
 " The water is n't deep enough right 
 here," he said at length, having watched 
 with much interest the first unsuccessful 
 attempts. " You see, he gets right to 
 the bottom and walks out. You have 
 to go into deep water to learn to swim." 
 
 " He 'd be afther drownin', an' we 
 could n't git him thin," objected Bob. 
 
 Robin dived down into those mines 
 of wealth, his trouser pockets, and 
 drew forth a piece of twine. This he 
 tied to one of the legs of the rooster, 
 and stepping out on a rock, threw^ the 
 poor, loudly protesting creature out into 
 the water. 
 
 4 
 
50 Robins Recruit. 
 
 *' The seese swim here, and so of 
 course the rooster can," he said confi- 
 dently ; but after repeated trials the 
 rooster proved quite unteachable. 
 
 " Innyhow, the water plases him 
 better now," said Bob, by way of en- 
 couraorement. " He don't kick at it 
 inny more." 
 
 A stranQ:e and silent submission had 
 succeeded the frantic expostulations 
 wdth which the rooster had sought to 
 convince the boys of the hopelessness 
 of their project ; and an uncomfortable 
 misgiving moved Robin to pull it 
 ashore. He untied the string and tried 
 to make it stand, but the poor fowl fell 
 flatly on its side with its legs stuck out 
 stiffly. 
 
 " I 'm afraid we Ve hurt it," he said 
 anxiously to Bob, who, after poking it 
 wath his fat fingers, declared " 't was only 
 
The Accident, 51 
 
 tired out, the pore thing was, with all 
 the fuss he 'd been makinV' and that he 
 would " carry it away to the coop for 
 rest." 
 
 Robin watched him with lively 
 remorse. 
 
 " I wish I had n't done it," he said to 
 himself, as he pushed the perambulator 
 up the bank. " I 'm afraid I worried 
 the poor rooster to death, and it 's a 
 cowardly thing to tease helpless crea- 
 tures. Horatio never would have done 
 it, neither would any of those brave old 
 Spartans. Abraham Lincoln always 
 protected the weak. I ni afraid that I 
 shall grow up to be like Nero." 
 
 In his repentance, Robin did the best 
 thing he could, which was to devote 
 himself to present duty, — the care of 
 Baby Corrigan. 
 
 The thought that fifty cents would 
 make the loss good to Mary was con- 
 
52 Rob ill's Recruit. 
 
 soling, but he told himself sadly that 
 he never could make it up to the 
 rooster. 
 
 There was a foot-bridge that crossed 
 the creek as a means of communication 
 between the post and the town, and to 
 Robin's joy he now saw Sergeant Corri- 
 gan hurrying over it. He stopped 
 the baby-carriage, and saluted respect- 
 fully, while the sergeant, having given a 
 paternal caress to his son, took off his 
 cap and wiped the perspiration from his 
 forehead. 
 
 " I have been looking for you, Ser- 
 geant," said Robin. 
 
 " Well, I 've been over to town, and on 
 bad business, too. I have been looking 
 after Kelly, who was missing at inspec- 
 tion this morning, and just as I ex- 
 pected, found him dead drunk down at 
 the Merry Mule. That town plays the 
 mischief with our men. There was 
 
The Accide7it. ^^ 
 
 Myers just ruined there, and Kelly's 
 following suit as fast as he can. By 
 the great horn spoon," went on the 
 sergeant, who in moments of great ex- 
 citement permitted himself this unique 
 oath, " we never had a poorer lot of 
 men than at present, — take em by the 
 lot, boy. And the recruits — for I Ve 
 sized 'em up — aren't goin' to be any 
 improvement." 
 
 " Well, I guess you have n't sized up 
 Doogan," interrupted Robin. " He 's all 
 right." 
 
 " Now you 're wrong there, Robin. 
 He is a bad lot, he is. You can see it 
 in his eye, and you can see it in the 
 whole bad face of him. He '11 never be 
 any credit to B Company, I '11 warrant 
 you." 
 
 " I don't think it 's fair to give a man 
 a bad name before you know anythino- 
 
54 Robins Recruit. 
 
 against him. When Doogan has turned 
 out to be a good, brave soldier, you will 
 want to take back the mean thinsf 
 you 've said now." 
 
 Robin's eyes glittered. He was 
 afraid he was severe on his old friend, 
 but his pity for Doogan, condemned 
 before he had been given a trial, urged 
 him on. Corrigan, deep in his own 
 thoughts, had not even noticed Robin's 
 wrath. 
 
 " I should n't be surprised if he had 
 deserted from some other regiment," he 
 Vv^ent on cahnly. " He says he 's been a 
 rose-culturer. Sounds dreadful inno- 
 cent, does n't it } I reckon he 's done 
 so7itethincr in his life beside tendino^ 
 posies. I think he 's a desperate sort of 
 a character. And the captain, I see, 
 thinks so too, though he does n't say 
 much, as of course he should n't, — it 
 
The Accident. 55 
 
 being, perhaps, as you say, a little pre- 
 vious. Yes, he 's a bad lot. Why, just 
 to see the color that flies into his ugly 
 face when an order is given him." 
 
 " Uo-ly face ! I think he 's hand- 
 some ! " cried Robin. "Why, Ser- 
 o-eant," he went on, measuring his 
 friend with a critical eye, " I believe 
 he could lift you up wdth his little 
 finger." 
 
 "Perhaps he could, — perhaps he 
 could," answered the sergeant, good- 
 humoredly. " When it comes to 
 strength, that 's another matter. Did 
 you hear how some of the men tried to 
 keep him from passing over the bridge 
 this morning ? You know it 's not wide 
 enough for more than one to pass at a 
 time, and they were coming over from 
 Plunkett. 
 
 " When he saw what they were up to, 
 
56 Robins Recruit. 
 
 he stood stockstill in the middle of the 
 bridge, and yelled to them to come on. 
 Though they had been as bold as you 
 please before, when they saw him stand- 
 ing there with his fist doubled up and 
 those black eyes of his glaring at 'em, 
 they did n't seem to hanker after the 
 job of handling him. However, they 
 could n't back out, and so the first one 
 stepped on. Well, Doogan picked him 
 up and tossed him like a wisp of straw 
 over the bridge into the crick, and the 
 next man he tossed over the otJier side 
 of the bridge. As for the rest of those 
 men, why, bless you, they huddled to- 
 gether like a lot of sheep on the Plun- 
 kett side without offering to set foot on 
 the bridsre until Doo^'an had crossed 
 over and was halfway to town." 
 
 " Why, it was like Horatio, was n't 
 it } " exclaimed Robin, excitedly. " I 
 think it was splendid." 
 
The Accident, 57 
 
 "Horatio? An' who may he be?" 
 questioned the sergeant, looking puzzled. 
 
 " Whv don't vou remember the piece, 
 Sergeant ? 
 
 " Then out spake brave Horatio, 
 The captain of the gate : 
 ' To every man upon this earth 
 Death cometh soon or late. 
 And how can man die better 
 Than facing fearful odds 
 For the ashes of his fathers 
 And the temples of his gods ? * "* 
 
 "Yes, I remember now, — the chap 
 570U are so fond of outer the Roman 
 History; but as I recollect the piece, 
 this Horatio was a-iighting for his 
 country. That 's the meaning of the 
 ashes and temples, which are just 
 fieeers of speech. So vou see it was n't 
 
 OCT) -L ^ 
 
 a similar case. However, since you've 
 taken a liking to him, I won't disparage 
 Doosan. Give him time, an' he 's sure 
 to show himself out. whatever he is. 
 
58 
 
 Robin s Recruit. 
 
 Now I 'm goin' right along home, and 
 I 11 take this little snipe back to his 
 mother. You had better go home too," 
 added Corrigan, with a sharp look at 
 Robin. " It 's getting hot, and if I was 
 you I 'd get out of this sun. There 's 
 dinner-call now." 
 
 MESS. 
 
 
 Soup-y, soup-y, soup-y, with-out a - ny 
 
 bean. 
 
 Pork - y, pork - y, pork -■ y, 
 
 
 mzm^jzzm 
 
 w 
 
 ith - out a - nv lean, Cof-fee, cof-fee, 
 
 -0 #- --| — 0-0 1- 
 
 -r- 
 
 3 
 
 cof - fee, Avith - out a - ny cream. 
 
The Accident. 59 
 
 So Robin be2:an to climb the hill 
 toward the parade-ground. Meanwhile 
 his thoughts were of Doogan, whom he 
 was enthroning in one of the high 
 places in his heart with the heroes he 
 worshipped. Some of these were taken 
 from history, or legendary poems that 
 his mother taught him, and some were 
 unknown men whose brave deeds were 
 none the less inspiring because history 
 has not commemorated them, and 
 which live only in admiring hearts of 
 comrades. 
 
 He aspired to be a strong man him- 
 self, and strength implied valor with 
 Robin ; but for the present, he could 
 hardly drag one weary foot after the 
 other. The sun, beating down on the 
 white limestone soil, blinded him. His 
 head swam, and a sudden sickness made 
 him think of the rooster, with a vague 
 
6o Robins Recruit. 
 
 wonder if, as he lay there so stiff and 
 niotionless, he had felt like this. Robin 
 had now reached the top of the hill 
 where the barracks are. Along this 
 line came the ambulance, ■ — a clumsy 
 old vehicle drawn by sleek government 
 mules. They came at their fastest 
 speed, for the driver was in haste to get 
 to the corral. 
 
 The soldiers sitting on the barrack- 
 steps shouted warningly to Robin, who 
 stood quite still directly in its course. 
 In that instant before the foremost mule 
 struck him, they wondered at his sup- 
 posed foolhardiness, then rushed to him; 
 while Lieutenant Hall, who had wit- 
 nessed the accident from the doorway 
 of headquarters, and two other officers 
 who were crossing the parade-ground, 
 also ran up. The mules had been in- 
 standy reined in ; and Hooley, the 
 
The Accident. 6i 
 
 driver, white with alarm, sat bending 
 over the seat looking at Robin. Every 
 face wore an air of tender anxiety ; for 
 Robin, with his love of fun, his sensi- 
 bility, his heart full of love, and his 
 passionate admiration for what is great 
 and brave, was dear to every soul in the 
 old garrison. But, thank Heaven, the 
 bright spirit they loved still shone out 
 of those dark eyes that looked with such 
 brave reassurance into theirs. No one 
 could tell, however, how great his 
 injuries might be. Some one immedi- 
 ately started in search of the doctor ; 
 another to prepare Mrs. Clancy for the 
 child's coming. Then a stretcher was 
 brought, but when thev would have 
 lifted him upon it, Robin shook his 
 head, saying, — 
 
 " Where is Doogan .^ I want Doogan 
 to carry me." 
 
62 Robins Recriiit. 
 
 There was a stir of surprise among 
 the men, but they moved away ; and the 
 recruit, having been told of Robin's 
 wish, pushed through the crowd, and 
 stooping down, Hfted him gently in his 
 strong, steady arms. 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 AN IMPATIENT PATIENT. 
 
 npHERE was great rejoicing at 
 Fort Carey when the doctor had 
 o-iven his opinion on Robin's case, for 
 no bones were broken, and although the 
 doctor had not been able to decide the 
 extent of Robin's injuries, he did not 
 think that any serious trouble need be 
 anticipated. A sprained back, however, 
 would- cause the patient some pain, and 
 make care needful There must be 
 many weary wrecks before he could ex- 
 pect to run about the post as before. 
 
 Robin bore the sentence with cour- 
 aee. It was just at oruard-mount, and 
 the strains of martial music from the 
 
64 
 
 Robiiis Recruit. 
 
 band burst on Robin s ear as an accom- 
 paniment to the painful words, and 
 miade them easier to bear. 
 
 " It was just at guard-mount." 
 
 The doctor was a warm admirer of 
 ^Robin, and having sympathy with his 
 moods, knew how to help him bear his 
 misfortune. 
 
 " There are other emergencies that 
 measure a man's courage just as well as 
 
An Impatient Patient. 65 
 
 a battle-field," he said ; " and many a 
 soldier, if he spoke the truth, would say 
 that the hardest fight he ever made was 
 in the hospital. It takes a stronger spirit 
 to conquer oneself than any other 
 enemy, so you must brace up, Robin, 
 and make a hard fight for patience." 
 From the window Robin cauo^ht the 
 bright scene on the parade-ground, 
 where, headed by the bandsmicn in their 
 gay uniforms, the men, with their bayo- 
 nets gleaming in the late sunlight, were 
 now marching before the adjutant. He 
 could see the fine, erect figure of his 
 father, who, as the new officer of the 
 day, was standing with Captain Ball, the 
 old offixCer of the day, at the other end 
 of the field. All there was life and 
 motion, — a boy's paradise, in which 
 there seemed no call for the humdrum 
 virtue the doctor praised. Then the 
 
66 Robin s Recruit 
 
 band clansfed and clashed in a final 
 flourish that was like a burst of triumph, 
 as the new guards marched to their post 
 at the guard-house, and a small boy with 
 a sprained back and brave heart also 
 went on duty. 
 
 " I never cared very much about 
 being patient," he said ; " it does n't seem 
 one of the boss virtues at all, and only 
 eood for women who sit in the house 
 and sew. Perhaps it will be a good 
 plan to go in for it now when I can't do 
 anything better. So, Doctor, I 'm going 
 to try to be patient, and not make a 
 fuss, no matter how long I have to stay 
 quiet.'' 
 
 But this mood could not be expected 
 to last ; to poor Robin, as to us all, there 
 come moments of trial when no martial 
 music inspires us with courage, and no 
 kind friend is at hand to point out the 
 
Ari Impatient Patient. 67 
 
 better way. Robin was no saint, only a 
 warm-hearted, human boy, whose good 
 resolutions would not always stand 
 test. At such times he declared he 
 would not even try to be patient, — 
 turned his face from his mother, and 
 had only cross words for poor, faithful 
 Susannah. 
 
 " There, boy, don't take on so," 
 Susannah begged of him one day. 
 " Let 's be thankful it 's no worse, as 
 't well mio^ht have been." 
 
 '' Thankful ! I won't be thankful ! " 
 Robin burst out crossly. '' I suppose 
 I 've eot to bear it, but I won't be thank- 
 ful. And it 's never so bad, Susannah, 
 that it might n't be worse. If you break 
 your arm, it might have been your leg ; 
 and if it s your leg, why, it might have 
 been your neck. Anyhow, to sprain 
 your back is bad enough for me ; and 
 
68 Robins Recruit. 
 
 you need n't think I 'm going to jump 
 for joy because I 've done it." 
 
 Then he flung his book on the floor 
 as a sample of the behavior she might 
 expect from him ; but the next moment 
 he threw his arms around her neck, 
 owning that he was cross and begging 
 her to forgive him. 
 
 The book Robin flung away in his 
 pet was about a boy who, like himself, 
 w^as sick and obliged to keep quiet, but 
 the resemblance between the two 
 stopped here ; for that boy was never 
 known to complain through all the four 
 hundred pages that described his woes. 
 When any one spoke to him of them, he 
 always answered " in a gentle voice," 
 and to the effect tliat he did not mind 
 suffering at all. Robin thought that 
 this taste was peculiar, to say the least, 
 for he himself objected very strongly 
 
An Imp at 1671 1 Patie^it. 69 
 
 to suffering, which always made him 
 cross instead of g:entle. The bov in the 
 book seemed, too, always to wear a wan 
 smile. 
 
 Robin asked Susannah what sort of a 
 smile that was, and if she had ever 
 noticed that he smiled in that way. He 
 wished to play the role of invalid with 
 equal propriety, and asking for a hand- 
 glass, made many experiments in smiles, 
 but he was never able to produce any- 
 thing better than what he himself called 
 " a cross grin." 
 
 All this time there were constant 
 callers at the Clancys' quarters with 
 inquiries for Robin. Many of the ladies 
 brought delicacies to tempt his appetite. 
 Sometimes for a few moments the 
 children were allowed to see him ; and 
 often his friend Arnold came in to tell 
 him the news of the post, or to read to 
 
JO Robiiis Recruit. 
 
 him. After the unpleasant scene with 
 Susannah just described, Rose Milby 
 brouorht in her zither, and with her 
 nimble white fingers chased away all 
 Robin's pain and ill-humor. Then 
 came a call from Lieutenant Hall, who 
 entertained him with anecdotes of a 
 remarkable dog he had, and left with 
 him for company a little horned toad 
 that he had found, for these gentle 
 little creatures are often made pets of 
 by Texan children. 
 
 Finally, his father, having come in 
 very tired from a court-martial, instead 
 of soine as usual to the club, sat down 
 for a chat with his son ; and directly 
 after, Mrs. Clancy, who had left him for 
 the first time since his accident that 
 afternoon, returned also, and the three 
 enjoyed together the quiet hour of 
 fading daylight. 
 
A 71 Ii7ipatient Patient. 71 
 
 Lulled by the low voices of these 
 dearest friends, Robin lay half asleep. 
 He was fast losing all consciousness of 
 his pleasant surroundings when a sud- 
 den turn in the conversation thoroughly 
 aroused him. 
 
 " 1 had trouble with one of the recruits 
 to-day," Captain Clancy was saying ; 
 " nothing to speak of if I were not so 
 sure that it 's a foretaste of what s to 
 come. I had ordered the man to be on 
 the ground for target practice at one 
 o'clock, and he was n't on time. So I 
 sent for the sergeant, who, after looking 
 for him, reported that he was not in the 
 garrison. Lieutenant Hall waited half 
 an hour for him ; and when he finally 
 came he said that he had been told 
 there was a letter for him in the post- 
 office, and had gone to town to get it, 
 meaning to be back on time. 
 
72 Robins Recruit. 
 
 "' Do you realize the enormity of your 
 offence in disobeying orders ? ' I asked 
 him. 
 
 " He looked ugly, but he answered 
 respectfully enough that he had n't 
 intended to disobey orders. 
 
 " ' How is that } ' said I. 
 
 " ' I supposed I could get back in 
 time,' he answered. 
 
 " ' Did n't^ou go to the Merry Mule } ' 
 said I. 
 
 " ' Yes,' he admitted ; he had been 
 there, but only for a moment, and he 
 came away saying that he must be back 
 to target practice. 
 
 " ' Well,' said I, ' do you know that I 
 can put you in the guard-house for four 
 months .^ ' 
 
 " He scowled and looked as black as a 
 Texas thunder-cloud, but he kept quiet ; 
 and I finally told him that as this was 
 
An ImpatieJit Patient. 73 
 
 his first offence, if the Heutenant agreed 
 I should let him off." 
 
 " What was his name, father ? " asked 
 Robin. 
 
 " Well, to tell the truth, it was your 
 man Doogan." 
 
 Captain Clancy laughed as if he 
 thought this rather a good joke on 
 Robin. 
 
 " If 't was that Doogan, Captain 
 Clancy, I wish you 'd clapped him into 
 the guard-house without any hemming 
 and hawino-," broke out Susannah, who 
 was lio-htino- the wood-fire that made 
 the room so pleasant every evening. " If 
 ever a man had an evil eye, he has ; and 
 I had my forbodin's of trouble when I 
 first saw him out there in the vard 
 lookin' at Robin." 
 
 " That 's nonsense, Susannah," laughed 
 the captain ; " the man has done no harm 
 
74 Robi7is Recruit. 
 
 to Robin ; but have patience, and he '11 
 get himself into the guard-house fast 
 enough, if that 's what you want." 
 
 " Lor, I don't niean to say anything 
 now, but just wait till I get a-hold of 
 that fellow." 
 
 Susannah snapped her lips together 
 as if she were afraid that if the vials of 
 wrath she had ready to pour upon the 
 offender were uncorked they might 
 evaporate. 
 
 " Everybody is down upon poor Doo- 
 gan, even to Susannah, but I 'm sure 
 he 's a fine fellow," exclaimed Robin. 
 " Why, father, he said he did n't mean 
 to disobey orders, and why don't you 
 believe him? I just wdsh I could do 
 something to show that I am his friend, 
 and believe in him. If you knew how 
 good he was to me when he carried me 
 home that day, you would feel just as 
 
A 71 Impatient Patient. 75 
 
 I do. Mother, won't you say something 
 kind for him ? '' 
 
 Mrs. Clancy thouo-ht with a shudder 
 of the man's hard, bold face and the 
 shock it had given her to see the flower- 
 like one of her pretty boy so near it. 
 
 '' Never mind about the recruit, dar- 
 line. You are g^ettino; excited, and that 
 is n't orood for vou. Well then," she 
 went on in answer to the beseeching 
 eyes of Robin, '' perhaps he is n't as bad 
 as we think. It is true he was kind to 
 you." 
 
 " Not so bad as he looks, for instance," 
 chimed in Susannah. '' Well, I 'm sure I 
 hope he is n't. Robin, else there is no 
 knowing what he might be doing 
 to us." 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 ON THE CHAPARRAL. 
 
 AT EARLY a month passed after Rob- 
 in's accident before he was able to 
 be out in the open air again. One 
 beautiful March day, however, Captain 
 Clancy ordered the ambulance, and 
 Robin and his mother drove into the 
 town. 
 
 It was a poor little place, with streets 
 that straggled out into the chaparral, 
 which surrounded it on all sides. The 
 houses were of one story, with little 
 gardens in front, where peach-trees, 
 honey-suckle, and roses were blooming 
 at the same time, in a bewildering 
 fashion to Northern eyes. The Mexican 
 
On the Chaparj^al. J'j 
 
 quarter was made up of little huts called 
 jacals, with a few feet of land enclosed 
 as a dooryard that w^as never cultivated, 
 but sometimes kind Nature thrust up a 
 Spanish bayonet-plant for a decoration, 
 its numerous spikes pricking the vivid 
 blue sky. Everyw4iere swarmed the 
 dark-eyed, bare-legged, smiling Mexican 
 children, who perhaps envied Robin his 
 seat in the coach as much as he envied 
 them their splendid health 
 
 Although the driver chose his way 
 as carefully as he could, the jarring of 
 the ambulance soon became painful to 
 Robin, who begged to go home again ; 
 and much discouraged, Mrs. Clancy 
 ordered the driver to return to the gar- 
 rison. After this experience Robin 
 cared to take no more drives. 
 
 Meantime, the men of Company B 
 had constructed for his use a softly roll- 
 
78 
 
 Robin s Recruit. 
 
 ing carriage, or chair on wheels. The 
 most difficult part of the work was done 
 by Doogan, who, it seemed, had all arts 
 but that of making friends. 
 
 " Being wheeled about the post," 
 
 Robin was pleased, not only by this 
 graceful attention, but also with the 
 vehicle itself, in which he passed many 
 comfortable hours being wheeled about 
 the post. The soldiers liked being 
 
On the Chaparral. 79 
 
 detailed for this duty ; but they knew 
 that Doogan was the favorite charioteer, 
 and it gradually fell entirely to him to 
 perform it. 
 
 By degrees Mrs. Clancy overcame 
 her fears at seeing her little son carried 
 away by this vicious-looking young 
 soldier; and left by themselves, an inti- 
 macy grew up between them, — an 
 intimacy as between two congenial 
 beings. What grace there was in the 
 nature of Doogan, seen only by this 
 child friend, puzzled the people of Fort 
 Carey. 
 
 One day when Robin was beino- 
 wheeled up and down in front of his 
 father s house, the fancy seized him to 
 be taken out on the chaparral. The pur- 
 ple frijolio, falsely called laurel, was then 
 in blossom, and acres and acres of the 
 blooms burdened the air with an almost 
 
8o Robins Recruit. 
 
 oppressive sweetness. Such a ramble 
 would take him out of earshot of the 
 children, shouting in so merry a fashion 
 in their play as to pain Robin with the 
 sense of his own misfortune. 
 
 " They always seem to be having an 
 extra good time when I come by," said 
 the poor little disabled one, as Doogan 
 turned off toward the gate through 
 which they must pass to get out on 
 the chaparral. " I 'm tired of being like 
 this ; I know I promised to try to be 
 patient, and I mean to be, only I must 
 have a chance to rest and be cross now 
 and then." 
 
 " Suppose I carry you for a bit. It 
 would make a change anyhow," said 
 Doogan ; and noticing that Robin's face 
 bricrhtened a little at the suggestion, he 
 came round to the side of the chair and 
 stooped down over him. Robin put his 
 
On the Chaparral. 8i 
 
 arms around his neck, and smiled as 
 he felt himself lifted to the height of 
 Doogan's shoulder. 
 
 " You 're so good, Doogan, I ought n't 
 to fret so," said Robin ; " but if a fellow 
 is going to be sick, he ought to be 
 brought up to it, and not have it sprung 
 on him all at once." His arm tight- 
 ened around Doogan's neck, and he 
 went on in a half whisper, " I never 
 thought I 'd be like this. I always 
 thought sick people were so tiresome. 
 There was poor Huckins. You never 
 saw him, cause he died before you came, 
 but he was out in Dakota, and he used 
 to cough dreadfully, and it always made 
 me feel cross. It seemed as if he did it 
 on purpose, you know. When we were 
 ordered to Texas he thou2:ht he should 
 get over it, but he died just a little while 
 after he got here. I was sorry then 
 
82 Robins Recruit. 
 
 that I had n't been kinder to him, but 
 it 's no good to be sorry unless you are 
 sorry at the right time." 
 
 " I would n't think on such oncheerful 
 subjicts," advised Doogan; and glancing 
 at the sweet face, showing so white upon 
 the dark blue of his blouse, he added, 
 " If I only could give you a part of my 
 strength. Captain Robin, you 'd see how 
 quick I 'd do it." 
 
 " Why, you are giving it to me. Are n't 
 your legs carrying both of us ? I feel 
 almost as if they were partly mine, you 
 let me have 'em so often. Good legs," 
 said Robin, with a glance downward that 
 Susannah would certainly have called 
 sentimental. " The first time I ever saw 
 'em — when I picked 'em out among a 
 lot of crooked, knock-kneed, slouchy ones 
 — I did n't think they would ever carry 
 me about on this chaparral. You know 
 
On the Chaparral. ^^-^ 
 
 I fell in love with you, Doogan, at first 
 sight." 
 
 " Some might say you was easily 
 pleased," said Doogan, grinning. " But 
 now tell me, Captain Robin, if there ain't 
 some other way you might make use o' 
 my strength. What do you want to do 
 that you ain't strong enough for? " 
 
 " Let me see," said Robin, reflectively ; 
 " well, you know the lone-stars are out 
 now, — the parade-ground is just covered 
 with them, — and I would like to gather 
 a bunch of them every morning for 
 Susannah, as I did last year. Nobody 
 ever sends Susannah flowers." 
 
 " Lord, I should n't think they would ! " 
 ejaculated Doogan, vv^ho admired Susan- 
 nah no more than she admired him. '' I 'd 
 as soon think of sendin' flowers to a gov- 
 ernment mule. However, if 't will please 
 you, Captain Robin, I '11 pick them stars 
 
84 Robins Recruit, 
 
 as willin' for her as a feller would for his 
 sweetheart. An' now what else is there ? " 
 Robin laughed rather roguishly, and 
 then said, — 
 
 ^' I was thinking yesterday that if I 
 was only well again, I 'd sometimes on 
 washing-days take Mary Corrigan's baby 
 out in its carriage;' 
 
 Dooo-an looked blank at this, and 
 said, " Well, I should smile ! Ain't Ser- 
 geant Corrigan the strength to trot round 
 his own kids ? " 
 
 '' Yes, but I should like to do it for 
 Mary. I remember that time she asked 
 me I didn't exactly — " 
 
 " Hanker after the job," put in Doogan. 
 " That 's it. I did n't exactly hanker 
 after the job," repeated Robin. " I 
 remember I thought that babies were a 
 great nuisance; but of course if there 
 are n't any babies, there won't be any 
 
On the Chaparral. 85 
 
 boys and men ; and then, we all had to 
 be taken care of ourselves once — even 
 you, Doogan. When I was a baby, Mary 
 Corrigan must have taken me out no 
 end of times, and so I 'd like to — " 
 
 " Return the favor, as 't were," Doo- 
 gan suggested. " Well, I see how 't is. 
 But that baby o' Corrigan's is a terror. 
 I saw it yesterday, an' it was flappin' its 
 mouth together like a horn-pout. It 
 makes me sick to look at it. However, 
 you Ve but to say the word, an' I '11 be 
 like a lovin' mother to it." 
 
 " Doogan, what a good old fellow you 
 are ! " Robin burst out. " But I was 
 in fun. It was just a test. Don't you 
 know in the fairy-stories how the prince 
 has to be willing to do all sorts of hard 
 things as a test of his love for the prin- 
 cess .^ I wouldn't really have you do it 
 for anything, the men would laugh so. 
 
86 Robins Recruit. 
 
 I 'm not going to have the men laugh 
 at you." 
 
 " Laugh at me ! They are n't so howl- 
 ing anxious for a quarrel," said Doogan, 
 grimly ; and, in truth, there were few 
 among the soldiers that cared to measure 
 their strength with this young giant. 
 " An' what else are you wantin' 
 
 streno^th for.^ Now no more o' them 
 •J 
 
 tests." 
 
 "Well, there's poor Huckins, you 
 know." 
 
 " Huckins ! well, he 's dead an' buried," 
 Doogan answered cheerfully. 
 
 " Yes ; he 's buried over there in the 
 soldiers' cemetery with stones over his 
 grave, and only a rickety wooden cross 
 to shovv^ where he lies. He was a good 
 brave soldier, Doogan, and sometimes I 
 would like to go up there, and put some 
 flowers around, to show that he was n't 
 forgotten." 
 
Oil the Chaparral. 87 
 
 " Well, now, that sort of work is jest 
 in my line, bein' in the sentimental busi- 
 ness at present." Doogan laughed with 
 that low, orood-humored chuckle of his 
 that no one but Robin ever heard. " I 
 will go up there to-morrow, an' sprinkle 
 about a few o' them lone-stars I shall 
 gather for my sweetheart, — the beaute- 
 ous Susannah." 
 
 " Oh, but you must n't ! You must n't 
 call her that," interrupted Robin, looking 
 over Doogan's shoulder as if he expected 
 to see the wrathful face of Susannah 
 behind them. 
 
 '' I '11 sprinkle 'em on one of the graves 
 up there, and it 's as likely to be Huck- 
 inses as anybody's." Doogan went on : 
 " Or if you would like, Captain Robin, 
 I '11 take you up there yourself, an' you 
 can point out the right one to me, though 
 I 'm not in favor of your bein' in 
 
88 Robins Recruit, 
 
 them lonely spots. But anyhow, now 
 it's time I was a-takin' you home, or the 
 folks there '11 be a-makin' up their minds 
 that I 'm a-murderin' you." 
 
 The following morning, as Robin was 
 lying on the sofa in the parlor, Susannah 
 brought in a huge bunch of lone-stars, 
 which, in high dudgeon, she flung into 
 his lap. 
 
 "Your beautiful Doogan has just 
 brought 'em," she said ; " the imperdent 
 thing came here, grinning like a chessy 
 cat, and said they was for me." 
 
 " They are for you, but they are n't 
 exactly from Doogan. You see, Susan- 
 nah, Doogan feels sorry for me because 
 I 'm not strong enough to do anything, 
 and he says I shall have part of his 
 streno-th. I 'm to call it mine, he says, 
 and use it just as I want to, and I told 
 him I euessed I 'd use a little to get these 
 lone-stars for you." 
 
On the Chaparral. 89 
 
 Robin held out the flowers entreat- 
 ing])-, but Susannah would not look at 
 them, and answered sharply, — 
 
 " I ain't going to have any man sprawl- 
 ing round on the parade-ground, picking 
 flowers for me. I 've had plenty to hum- 
 ble my pride in my time, but I ain't sunk 
 so low yet as that." 
 
 " I don't want you to sink low. If you 
 feel so, I '11 tell Doos^an not to brino; anv 
 more," said Robin. '' I "ve always got 
 them for you, though, ever since we 've 
 been at Fort Carev, and I thouo:ht 
 you 'd miss them this year." 
 
 ''And so I would, Robin," cried Susan- 
 nah, dropping her easterly tone, and 
 suddenly veering round into a warm, 
 comfortable quarter ; " lone-stars is lone- 
 stars, whoever picks em. and I 11 put 
 these now in water, with many thanks 
 to you." 
 
90 
 
 Robins Recruit, 
 
 I ain't going to have any man sprawling on the parade- 
 ground, picking flowers for me.''^ 
 
On the C/iaparral. 91 
 
 As long as the lone-stars bloomed, a 
 bunch came regularly each morning for 
 Susannah, who greeted their sweet, pure 
 faces with a wry one of her own, no doubt, 
 but, for love of Robin, meekly accepted 
 them. 
 
 A norther that had sprung up in the 
 night prevented Robin from going out 
 the next morning, and after that a bad 
 cold confined him for several days to the 
 house, so that a long time passed before 
 he again saw Doogan. 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 A SAD BIRTHDAY. 
 
 TT was directly after breakfast, and 
 Robin had been comfortably settled 
 on his sofa, while his mother, with her 
 pretty fancy-work in hand, sat devotedly 
 near, ready to be as amusing as she 
 knew how. 
 
 To furnish entertainment for such 
 long periods is a good deal of a tax 
 on one's ingenuity, and Mrs. Clancy 
 was thankful for a sudden interest on 
 Robin's part in her own work. She 
 even submitted to his rather rough 
 handling of her delicate materials, while 
 he investigated the process of making 
 a handkerchief-case. 
 
A Sad Birthday. 93 
 
 " Who is it for, anyhow ? " he asked at 
 length, sniffing vigorously at the helio- 
 trope powder that was to scent the sides 
 of the case. " I never had one of these, 
 and I think it's because I never had 
 such a good place to keep 'em in that I 
 lose so manv of mv handkerchiefs." 
 
 " You shall have one, if you would like 
 it," said ]\lrs. Clancy. There were few 
 thino^s this tender little mother would 
 refuse her poor boy at that time. '' But 
 this one is for Lieutenant Plall. He is 
 to have a birthday next week, and it 's 
 pleasant, you know, to have your friends 
 remember you on that day." 
 
 Robin assented to this. He was think- 
 ing that when once he had given Doogan 
 a photograph of himself he had remarked 
 that no one before had ever made him a 
 present. Robin did not consider a pho- 
 tograph a present at all. 
 
94 Robin s Recruit. 
 
 " Mother," he said, " it 's going to be 
 Doogan's birthday next week too, and I 
 want to make him a present." 
 
 Mrs. Clancy gave instant consent to 
 this plan, looking upon the gift as an 
 acknowledgment of the kindness Doo- 
 gan had shown him. 
 
 " Oh, I don't wish to do it for that ! " 
 Robin protested ; " we 're friends, you 
 know. But it 's just as you said w4ien 
 you were speaking of Lieutenant Hall, 
 pleasant to have your friends remember 
 you. I want to give him something nice, 
 though." 
 
 " Have you thought of anything in 
 particular? It's rather hard to select 
 a present for Doogan." 
 
 " No, I don't think it is at all. I should 
 give him just what I 'd give anybody — 
 any other friend." 
 
 " I would give him the money, Robin, 
 
A Sad Birthday. 95 
 
 and let him select something to please 
 himself," his mother advised ; but Robin 
 shook his head decidedly, and asked, — 
 
 " Why did n't you give the money to 
 Lieutenant Hall, and let him select his 
 present ? " 
 
 Mrs. Clancy laughed at this, and the 
 captain threw in the suggestion that 
 Robin should buy a bag of tobacco, as a 
 gift Doogan would be likely to appreciate. 
 
 " I think he might like a pipe, perhaps," 
 said his mother. " Would you like to 
 give him that, Robin } " 
 
 But this proposal, with its patronizing 
 assumption of Doogan's want of taste 
 for the niceties of life, much displeased 
 Robin, who waved it away in silent scorn, 
 and sat looking so significantly at the 
 handkerchief-case that it was an easy 
 matter for his mother to read his thoueht. 
 
 " Do you think it would make a suit- 
 
96 Robins Recruit. 
 
 able present for him ? " she said merril}^ 
 holding up her dainty work, while his 
 father roared, and Robin, too, joined in 
 the laugh. . 
 
 He laughed, however, merely because 
 the others laughed, and not at all because 
 he appreciated the joke. He thought 
 the handkerchief-case none too fine for 
 his friend, and his mind was not to be 
 shaken by sarcasm. 
 
 " You promised me one, mother," he 
 said earnestly, " and I shall take it for 
 Doogan. I mean to pay for all the 
 things, though, myself, with the dollar 
 father Qrave me for not makino- a row 
 when the doctor examined my back. I 
 shall have it made of white satin, with 
 rosebuds embroidered on it like this one, 
 white lace round the edge, and pink bows 
 in the corners, and plenty of the smelly 
 stuff inside." 
 
A Sad Birthday. 97 
 
 They laughed again, and the captain 
 said there ought to be a Shakspearian 
 quotation somewhere, as Doogan was, 
 no doubt, a lover of poetry ; to which 
 jest Robin replied stanchly that Doogan 
 liked poetry as w^ell as anybody. 
 
 Perseverance met with its just reward, 
 and the day before Doogan 's birthday, 
 such a handkerchief-case as Robin had 
 described w^as wrapped up by him, with 
 a card inside bearing his name and good 
 W'ishes. It was a delicate, dainty thing, 
 " jest fit to give to a bride," as Susannah 
 said, with a disapproving sniff. Even 
 Susannah had contributed to the celebra- 
 tion of Doogan's birthday, having been 
 wheedled into making for him a birthday 
 cake. 
 
 " I 've no doubt he 11 know wliat to do 
 with this," she said, as she brought the 
 cake in on a plate for Robin's pleased 
 
98 Robins Recruit. 
 
 inspection ; ",but as for the bridal off erin , 
 he 's as likely as not to keep his baccy 
 in it. I guess the men '11 laugh some 
 when they see him with that flimflam 
 thing." 
 
 " Well, it will be behind Doogan's 
 back, then," answered Robin, to whom 
 this view of the subject was new ; " and, 
 anyhow^ Doogan won't care. He is n't 
 afraid of the men, and he 11 be pleased 
 to have his birthday remembered." 
 
 The following morning was fair, with 
 a soft breeze blowing from the chaparral, 
 and it was decided that Robin might 
 venture out of doors again. He knew 
 Doosan would come to wheel his chair, 
 and this would afford a fine opportunity 
 of presenting the case and the cake. 
 In anticipation of this pleasure, he 
 ate his breakfast in high spirits. Be- 
 fore he had left the table. Sergeant 
 
A Sad Birtliday. 99 
 
 Corrigan came in to make his customary 
 morning report to the captain, who was 
 writino; at his desk in the corner of the 
 dining-room. 
 
 As he stood, cap in hand, before Cap- 
 tain Clancy, he glanced uneasily at Robin, 
 who was smiling at him, in that warm, 
 sunny fashion of his ; then he dropped 
 his eyes, and said in a low voice, — 
 
 " I confined Private Doogan, sir, last 
 night, by order of the lieutenant." 
 
 "Confined whom?'' asked the cap- 
 tain ; " speak a little louder. Sergeant." 
 
 " Private Doogan, sir." 
 
 " What for ? " 
 
 " For drunkenness and disorderly 
 conduct." 
 
 At this point, poor Corrigan cast 
 another o-lance at Robin, who had 
 dropped his fork, and was staring at 
 him with wide-open eyes. 
 
lOO Robins Recruit. 
 
 " I heard a noise down by the guard- 
 house, about eleven o' clock. Was that 
 the time ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir. He fought like a tiger. 
 The officer of the day, hearing the noise, 
 came up, and we had quite a tussle to 
 get him into the guard-house. Before 
 that, he had been trying to get through 
 the gate down by the Plunkett road, 
 bein' too drunk to know rightly what he 
 was about ; and in my opinion, sir, he 
 has been fixing for some time to desert. 
 I know he hates it out here like poison, 
 and he has been heard to say that no 
 one but a fool would be bamboozled 
 about like an enlisted man." 
 
 When the sergeant, having finished 
 his report, had saluted and departed, 
 Captain Clancy threw down his pen, 
 saying to Robin, — 
 
 " Well, boy, your recruit is a bad lot, 
 after all, is n't he ? " 
 
A Sad Birthday. 
 
 lOI 
 
 Then turning, so as to get a glimpse 
 of Robin's face, he got up, and leaning 
 over him, said gendy, — 
 
 " He had laid his head on his arms, trying to hide his 
 mortification." 
 
 " Why, Robin, boy, do you feel so 
 badly as all this ? " 
 
 For he had laid his head on his arms, 
 
I02 Robins Recruit. 
 
 trying to hide his mortification and 
 sorrow. 
 
 The bright morning sunshine was 
 darkened for him with the thought of 
 Doogan's twentieth birthday passed in 
 the grim old guard-house. Beside the 
 pity he felt for his friend was a deep 
 sense of chaorin that his chosen recruit 
 should prove guilty of such offences. 
 His hero was disgraced, drunken, and 
 thrown down from that pedestal upon 
 which he had so greatly admired him. 
 The " bridal offering " seemed to mock 
 at his disappointment, and he felt like 
 hiding at home all day, rather than hear 
 the jokes that would be made upon his 
 own misplaced confidence. 
 
 But Robin was too hopeful a little soul 
 to persist long in this dark mood. Doo- 
 gan had fallen, but he was too good — 
 Robin was sure he was too good — not 
 to stagger to his poor feet again ; and the 
 
A Sad Birthday, 103 
 
 part of his best friend was to be hopeful 
 of the future. 
 
 As to that insinuation of Sersreant Cor- 
 rigan that the recruit had meant to desert, 
 he did not believe a word of it. 
 
 It was on the following day that Robin, 
 being wheeled around the post by Hooley, 
 who had been detailed for this duty in 
 Doogan's place, came upon the poor boy 
 with some of the other prisoners at work 
 on the road. To see him thus, guarded 
 by a sentinel with a bayonet over his 
 shoulder, as the custom is, was enough 
 to make one's best friend wince ; but 
 thinking life was dark enough for the poor 
 fellow just then, without black looks, 
 Robin forced as cheerful a smile as he 
 could ; and how was Doogan to know that 
 tears would have come easier? Robin 
 thought if he could only stop and say 
 something pleasant to him, he himself 
 
I04 
 
 Robin s Recruit, 
 
 would feel happier ; but that, of course, 
 would not be permitted, and he went 
 home in a sad mood that ended in tears, 
 
 ■ " Was enough to make one's best friend wince." 
 
 and he passed a feverish night in 
 consequence. 
 
 Dr. Bemis grumbled bitterly over this 
 
A Sad Birthday, 105 
 
 state of affairs, when he came in the next 
 morning to see Robin, and he wondered, 
 as every one did, why he should be so 
 fond of this unpromising young soldier. 
 
 Robin finally unburdened his heart in 
 a lone letter, which he found means of 
 sending to Doogan. 
 
 My dear Doogan (he wrote), — I must 
 write to tell you how much I miss you, and 
 how I think of you all the time. Each morn- 
 ing, when the gun is fired, I blow a kiss to 
 you. I suppose this is sentimental, for Su- 
 sannah says so ; but I don't think it 's wicked 
 to be sentimental, though I think Susannah 
 does. 
 
 I don't feel quite as well as I did. I shall 
 feel better, I think, when I see you again. 
 Hooley takes me out every day, but he is n't 
 strong enough to carry me. 
 
 How are our legs ? 
 
 What I started to tell you was that I don't 
 believe that you meant to desert that time you 
 were trying to get through the gate. I shall 
 
io6 Robin's Recruit. 
 
 always stick to you. I hope you will stick to 
 me, but, anyhow, I shall always stick to you. 
 I know you would never desert, but I 'd like to 
 hear you say so, and if, the next time I see you, 
 you '11 just cough, I '11 take it as a promise, 
 and shall feel better. 
 
 Many fine books have been written in prison. 
 Why don't you write one? But perhaps you 
 have. 
 
 Your faithful friend, 
 
 Robin. 
 
 Waking from his heavy sleep on the 
 morning of his twentieth birthday, and 
 finding himself in the guard-house, Doo- 
 p-an recalled the train of events that had 
 brouo-ht him there, and desperate 
 thoughts filled his mind. Although it 
 is true that a soldier's life, with its neces- 
 sary restraint, w^as most distasteful to 
 him, he had never intended to desert. 
 Throuo-h all his life, it had been the 
 poor boy's fate to be suspected of wrong- 
 
A Sad Birthday. 107 
 
 doing in advance of the intent, and it 
 had generally ended in his justifying 
 expectation. 
 
 Alone in his cell in the guard-house, 
 one night, the silence broken only by 
 the tread of the sentinel pacing back and 
 forth outside, he made up his mind that 
 as soon as the opportunity showed itself, 
 he would be guilty of the very act of 
 which he had been suspected. His hot 
 young blood boiled with resentment and 
 anger against those who had power to 
 confine him here, " like a rat in a trap," 
 as he angrily told himself. With bitter- 
 ness he remembered the hostility the men 
 had always shown him, and he felt that 
 he would be glad never again to lay eyes 
 on one human beino^ he had known at 
 Fort Carey. 
 
 But everv time he said this to himself, 
 a gentle child-face seemed to emerge 
 
io8 Robins Recruit. 
 
 from the gray shadows of the place, and 
 break into that slow, warm, magnetic 
 smile that he knew so well, until young 
 Doogan would turn impatiently away, 
 with his hand over his eyes, trying to 
 shut out that little face, and stifle the 
 memory of the child that loved him. 
 
 It was when this determination to 
 escape from Fort Carey was strongest 
 that Robin's note reached him. Doogan 
 read it slowly and with difficulty, but 
 words of kindness and affection did not 
 reach him so often that he could afford 
 to miss any of them. 
 
 " Lord ! he 's a queer little chap," he 
 said, smiling to himself, as he folded the 
 letter up. " 'T would go hard with him 
 if I was to take Scotch leave o' Company 
 B, an' I believe I '11 hang on a bit longer 
 for the sake of him." 
 
 But, deep down in his heart, Doogan 
 
A Sad Bh^thday. 109 
 
 knew that he should disappoint that 
 loving trust in the end. 
 
 It so happened that, the very next day, 
 while he was at work, Robin, wheeled 
 by Hooley and attended by a cavalcade 
 of children, came by. 
 
 As Robin saw his friend, two red spots 
 flew into his cheeks. 
 
 " Go slow," he said to Hooley, and 
 Hooley obeyed. As they passed in 
 front of the poor lad, it seemed to him 
 that they came to a full stop. He caught 
 his breath with a gasp, as for a moment 
 his glance fell upon Robin's raised face ; 
 it looked so much smaller and whiter 
 than he remembered it. The s^reat brown 
 eyes were full of entreaty, and seemed to 
 say, — 
 
 " Stick by me, Doogan ! Promise 
 never to desert." 
 
 Then he dropped his head, and went 
 
no Robins Recruit, 
 
 busily on with his work, while Hooley 
 quickened his pace, saying, — 
 
 " Sure, that 's a terrible cough Doo- 
 san s got on him. The air of the 
 euarcl-house don't a^ree with his deli- 
 cate constitution." 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 doogan's story. 
 
 ON Doogan's release from the guard- 
 house, a week later, he found there 
 had been no improvement in Robin's 
 condition, and he seemed very feeble 
 and worn. 
 
 The summer heat was now coming on, 
 — the dry, breathless heat of southern 
 Texas, — and the doctor declared that 
 Robin would not be able to bear the 
 summer at Fort Carey. 
 
 Captain Clancy had sent in an appli- 
 cation for a leave of absence ; and in case 
 of a refusal it had been decided that he 
 should take his meals at the bachelors' 
 mess, and that Mrs. Clancy and Susan- 
 
1 1 2 Robins Recruit. 
 
 nah should take Robin north ; but Robin 
 himself had heard nothing of these 
 plans. 
 
 In his quiet life, unable to join in the 
 pleasures of the other children, his chief 
 interest seemed to be in his recruit. 
 Nothing pleased him so much as a good 
 report of Doogan. When Doogan dis- 
 tinguished himself at target-practice, by 
 his fine shooting sending B Company's 
 averao-e hio-her than it had ever been 
 on anv vear he could remember, Robin 
 had swelled with pride, A hint that 
 Doogan was drinking again, or in any 
 disgrace, sent his spirits down to zero, so 
 that care was taken that when the ser- 
 geant made his daily report to Captain 
 Clancy, Robin should never be present. 
 Nearly every day, either in the early 
 morning or late in. the afternoon, Doogan 
 and Robin enjoyed each other's company, 
 
Dooga7is Story. 1 1 3 
 
 and the figure of the soldier striding 
 about the garrison with the boy in his 
 arms, his curly head resting on the big 
 fellow's shoulder, became a familiar sight. 
 
 One afternoon, when they were sitting 
 by the disused blacksmith's shop, on the 
 edge of the post, Robin learned his 
 friend's early history. 
 
 On the previous evening, Robin had 
 heard shouts of laughter at B Company's 
 barracks, and now asked Doogan the 
 cause of it. 
 
 " The men were a-givin' their previous 
 histories," answered Doogan, laughing a 
 little, as if the recollection was amusing. 
 
 " I wish I could have been there," said 
 Robin. 
 
 " 'T warn't worth hearin' ; an' them 
 barracks ain't a good place, anyway, for 
 a little chap like you," replied Doogan. 
 
 " I 've had lots of good times, anyhow, 
 
114 
 
 Robin s Recruit. 
 
 *' Sitting by the disused blacksmith's sho]j. 
 
Doogans Story. 115 
 
 down at the barracks. The men were 
 always good to me, Doogan." 
 
 " Lord ! I should think so. Why 
 should n't they be .^ " said Doogan, taking 
 the boy's wrist, and gently slapping the 
 soft hand upon his own great paw. 
 " Well, if I only could remember what 
 those fools said, I 'd try and tell yer." 
 
 " You can remember what yoit said. 
 I wish you 'd tell me your history, 
 Doogan." 
 
 '' Oh, they was only a-foolin\ They 
 was all yarns." 
 
 " I should want vou to tell me honest 
 and true, of course. Won't you tell it 
 to me, Doogan .^ " 
 
 " It ain't worth tellin', Captain Robin, 
 an' 't would n't be fit fer yer to hear, an' 
 I don't want to deceive yer," was the 
 answer. 
 
 Robin turned wearily in Dooo'an's 
 arms, and sis^hed. 
 
ii6 Robins Recruit. 
 
 " It does n't seem as if I could ever 
 have anything I want nowadays. Dear 
 Doogan," he urged, with the persistence 
 of sickness, " please tell me the story." 
 
 A hot color spread suddenly over the 
 young soldier s face, as for a moment he 
 looked into Robin's pleading eyes. Then 
 he said slowly, — 
 
 " Well, I 'm goin' to tell yer honest 
 an' true, as yer say, what I 've never 
 told to any one. There never was any 
 one before 't would believe me, but 1 
 know you will. 'T won't be a pretty 
 story, though. There ain't any fairy god- 
 mothers in it, an' no Sunday-schools, an' 
 nothin' instructive, but I reckon 't won't 
 do yer no harm. But first yer must 
 promise yer ain't never goin' to tell it to 
 anybody." 
 
 " Yes ; I promise you that, Doogan. I 
 want you to begin at the time when you 
 were no bigger than I am." 
 
Doogans Story- 1 1 7 
 
 " When I was a little feller like you, I 
 worked fer a man who had a big farm in 
 New England," began Doogan. 
 
 " Why did n't you live with your father 
 and mother ? " asked Robin. 
 
 " Well, fer a pretty good reason, — they 
 was both dead and buried ; and though 
 't would have been better fer me, perhaps, 
 to have gone along with em, 't warn't so 
 arranged. My father left nothin' fer me 
 but a bad name, an' my mother warn't a 
 leader of society, by no means ; an' when 
 she died too, there warn t no rich rela- 
 tions to come forads to take care of me, 
 an' so I fell on the town. That ain't the 
 best sort of luck fer a baby. Captain 
 Robin. Yer see I did n't have a very 
 genteel send-off, an' I 've never been 
 genteel since. The town was n't any 
 more fond o' me 'n I was of the town ; an' 
 jest as soon as it could, it got rid o' me, 
 
ii8 Robins Recruit. 
 
 and bound me over (I was jest about 
 your age then) to the man I started in 
 by tellin' yer about. I was n't an angel 
 of virtue, I reckon, an' the town authori- 
 ties thought mebbe they could n't be too 
 perticuler as to the sort o' man they was 
 to ship me onto. At any rate, old Monks 
 — that was the feller's name — was the 
 hardest cove I ever come across, an' I 
 ain't been accustomed to the society o' 
 the pillers o' the church, by no means." 
 
 A fierce look gleamed in Doogan's 
 black eyes, and he breathed hard ; but in 
 a moment he took up Robin's little hand 
 again, and went on calmly, — 
 
 " Well, yer could n't expect him to be 
 a fond parient to me, when he had 
 nearly killed his own son by hard w^ork. 
 I never w^ondered that the feller had run 
 away, an' used to think (that is, when I 
 grew bigger, for I 'm w^ay back now when 
 
Doogans Story- 119 
 
 I was fust with him, — a lazy, wild Httle 
 cub, no older ^n you are) I would run 
 away too. He was bound to get every 
 cent out of me that my livin' cost him, 
 an' he managed to do it ; fer there was 
 always the horsewhip, if I stopped work- 
 in', to lash me along on the path o' dooty. 
 Many a time he thrashed me till his 
 poor, scared little wife would cry, an' beg 
 an' beg him to stop. As for cryin', 
 though, that was the pleasure of her life, 
 an' all the one she ever got. She took 
 solid comfort that way, an' she 'd set an' 
 cry, an' set an' cry, an' set an' cry, cry, cry. 
 She said the sight of me a-workin'out in 
 the fields along with him reminded her of 
 her boy, an' 't was that what made her cr}-. 
 "Well, I worked hard enough, I can 
 tell yer, Captain Robin, an' all the reward 
 I ever got was cuffs an' kicks. Often 
 an' often, at night, I 'd crawl up into the 
 
I 20 Robin s Recruit. 
 
 loft where I slept, and cry with rage that 
 I was n't strong enough to turn round 
 an' thrash old Monks as he deserved, — 
 fer there was wild blood in me that turned 
 hot at a blow." 
 
 " Poor little Doogan ! " murmured 
 Robin, pressing his soft cheek lovingly 
 against the rough face of the recruit, who 
 laughed in answer, though he drew the 
 child closer to him, as he went on, — 
 
 " Of course I hated him. I remem- 
 ber now how, when I was a-choppin' 
 wood, fer instance, I 'd fancy \ was him 
 I was a-hackin' an' hewin' up, an' took a 
 pleasure in it. It was n't jest the way 
 of developin' the moral sentiments in a 
 boy, an' I did n't grow kind an' lovin'. 
 As I grew older, I got sorter reckless. 
 I b'lieve, when the fit was on me, I would 
 have spoken my mind to him if I had 
 known Monks would kill me the next 
 
Doogans Story. 1 2 1 
 
 minute. Once his wife begged me to 
 keep my tongue quiet, sayin' she was 
 afraid sometime he might kill me. I 
 never have forgotten the poor little thing, 
 an' I never wall," said Doogan, shaking 
 his head. " She would have been kind 
 to me if she 'd dared. If ever I got a 
 chance to do her a good turn, I always 
 meant to do it. Well, at last the chance 
 come, though 't was n't anything like 
 w^iat I was lookin' fer. 
 
 '' Yer see, she 'd never forgot her boy, 
 though she did n't know any more than 
 I did what had become of him. But 
 one day, unbeknownst to Monks, she got 
 a letter from him, an' he was in trouble, 
 an' wanted money. That 's the w^ay it 
 is with them runaway chaps; they are 
 never heard from, unless they 're wantin' 
 money. Poor Mis' Monks had n't a 
 cent, an' she did n't dare ask Monks fer 
 
122 Robins Recruit, 
 
 money. Why, I 've seen the poor thing 
 tremble when she heard him a-comin', 
 an' she used to slap the dinner on the 
 table, an' cut for the barn, while he eat 
 it ; so ver see she did n't confide none 
 of her troubles to him. She was most 
 frantic. She 'd walk up an' down the 
 floor, with her hands to her head an' 
 her eyes rovin' all over the room, as if 
 't was the custom in that house to have 
 piles o' money layin' round anywhere, 
 convenient fer folks that wanted it to 
 pick up. Well, so it went on. 
 
 " I was about fifteen year old by that 
 time, an' strong as a young lion. 
 
 "At last Monks lost twenty-five dol- 
 lars, which he said had been stolen out 
 of his trousers' pocket. He insisted 
 that I was the thief, and tried all 
 his winnin' ways to make me own 
 that I had taken it, and give him 
 
Doogans Story. 123 
 
 his mone)/ again. I was black an' blue 
 with his compliments. At last the beast 
 in me broke loose, an' I turned on him 
 jest as I 'd always longed to do, an' paid 
 back. There warn't nothin' mean about 
 me, an' after I 'd thrashed him fer myself, 
 I laid on again fer poor Mis' Monks, an' 
 then fer the boy he 'd driven away from 
 her. I was that hot 't was a mercy I 
 had n't killed him, but a man passin' by, 
 hearin' his screams, come to his rescue. 
 (It was one of those men that had eiven 
 me into old Monks' hands in the beein- 
 ning.) Together they managed to tie 
 me up, an' the upshot of the business 
 was, I was taken to the reform school. 
 Captain Robin, / knew zuho took that 
 mo7iey. I saw her do it!' 
 
 " Oh," said Robin, swallowins^ his 
 tears, and looking up brightly, " then 
 they let you off." 
 
124 Robins Recruit. 
 
 " Well," said Doogan, " 't was this 
 way. Yer never see sech a frightened, 
 miser'ble-lookin' human critter as Mis' 
 Monks ever since the old man first found 
 out that his money had been took. She 
 kept a-follerin' me about with them sick, 
 scared eyes of hers, an' I remembered 
 she 'd 'a' been kind to me if she dared, 
 an' I could n't go back on her. I jest 
 declared to everybody that I ' had n't 
 stole the money, an' that 's all I would 
 say. But folks w^ould n't listen, or if 
 they did, they would n't believe me. 
 They said I 'd always been a bad sort of 
 a boy, an' my pa had been a bad man, 
 an' the school o' reform would be the 
 safest place fer me. The school o' 
 reform ! " repeated Doogan, bitterly. " A 
 fine way to reform a young feller, by 
 sivin' him a bad name that '11 stick all 
 his life, an' prevent his followin' any 
 
Doogans Story. 125 
 
 respectable livin' in the place where he 's 
 born, an' that forces him to live a wild 
 life in wild places. Poor Mis' Monks, 
 she died that same year, an' a great 
 streak of luck fer her. As fer Jmn, I 
 don't know what become of him, but I 
 know he was the ruination of me. When 
 I went to that school o' reform, I turned 
 my back on any chance fer a good sort 
 of a life. P'raps I would n't have had 
 one, anyhow. Folks always mistrust 
 me. ' He s got a bad face. I must 
 look out fer him,' they 'd say; an' that 
 sort of a manner toward a man don't 
 sort of ^^g him on to doin' his best. No, 
 I ain't had a chance, an' there 's only 
 one way fer me." 
 
 Doogan had forgotten Robin. His 
 eyes were looking absently into the dis- 
 tance, where the sun, like a crimson disk, 
 seemed slipping into the gray, lonely 
 
126 Rod ills Recruit. 
 
 chaparral. His face grew hard. That 
 spirit of unconquerable loyalty that had 
 shone in his eyes, as he spoke of the 
 poor woman whom he would not betray, 
 had faded into fierce gloom ; and his 
 thouo:hts were of a future even darker, 
 perhaps, than that sad, unfortunate past 
 over which Robin was silently grieving. 
 " It 's queer," he went on presently, 
 "how 'twas on my birthday — I was 
 jest fifteen then — when I got into the 
 reform school, an' my birthday again 
 when I o-ot into the o-uard-house down 
 here. But 'twas the fust time that paved 
 the way fer the other, — 'twas the first 
 time that paved the way fer all the badness 
 that followed ; that, an' the face of me 
 that folks can't bear, an' has scared away 
 all decent company. I never had a 
 friend except poor Mis' Monks an' — 
 Why, Captain Robin, little chap, don't 
 yer cry so ! " 
 
Doogans Stojy. 127 
 
 He held the child higher in his arms, 
 till his face touched his own, and both 
 were wet with tears. 
 
 " Don't cry so, dear little kid ! " he 
 begged. "It ain't good fer yer; 'twill 
 hurt yer. Plague take me that I ever 
 began chinnin' in this low-sperited way ! 
 Cheer up, Captain Robin, fer we 're all 
 right now, here on this purty-lookin' 
 chaparral." 
 
 He was frio^htened, for Robin was 
 crying hysterically, although he struggled 
 to control himself. 
 
 " Who 'd 'a' thouorht he 'd have taken 
 it to heart so, the poor, lovin' little chap ! " 
 he said to himself. Those tears, which, 
 as far as he knew, were the first ever 
 shed for him, touched him deeply, and 
 with gentle, tender ways that became the 
 great fellow well, he tried to dry them. 
 
 " Doogan," said Robin, when he had 
 
128 Robins Recruit. 
 
 finally mastered himself, " I 'm only a 
 boy now ; but I '11 be a man by-and-by, 
 and I '11 be a good friend to you." 
 
 " An' I believe yer," answered Doogan. 
 " You 're different from any one I ever 
 saw, an' I believe yer will." 
 
 " And you must stick to me," Robin 
 went on ; " you have promised to." 
 
 "I won't — er — never forgit yer, 
 certain," Doogan answered, lowering his 
 eyes, however, before those resting uppn 
 him with such love and confidence. 
 
 " And what happened to you after you 
 came out of the school of reform } " 
 asked Robin, suddenly. 
 
 " Oh, nothin' in particular," was the 
 cautious reply. " I guess things chirked 
 up some after that. We 're all right, 
 Captain Robin, — you an' me, — ain't 
 we } An' I think now we 'd better be 
 a-startin' fer home." 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 EARLY EXPERIENCES. 
 
 npHE thought that Doogan spoke no 
 more than the truth when he said 
 people mistrusted him on account of 
 his " bad face" troubled Robin, and 
 more than ever before he longed for him 
 to distinguish himself in some \y3.)\ and 
 win public approval. Doogan was brave, 
 but in these comparatively peaceful times 
 there was small chance for the bravery 
 that would lead to high honors. Doo- 
 gan was certain that he could neither 
 write a poem, compose an opera, paint a 
 picture, nor do any of those things that 
 upon earnest inquiry Robin learned were 
 the highways to fame; and he was forced 
 
 9 
 
130 Robins Recruit. 
 
 to fall back on the hope that at least he 
 would mend all his bad ways, and become 
 an exemplary common-soldier. It would 
 require a great effort to do this, for the 
 poor fellow's will was weak, so that he 
 fell easily into temptation. 
 
 Never had Robin spoken to him of 
 these bad habits of his; but there was no 
 need of that, for Doogan knew well what 
 his feeling was, and that the boy grieved 
 whenever he himself was in disgrace. 
 Many times, when thinking of this, he 
 had resolved to combat these desires that 
 brought him so low, but nevertheless he 
 had always yielded weakly, and finally 
 gave up in despair. Thinking over the 
 sad childhood of poor Doogan, Robin 
 pitied and excused his friend's faults, 
 and still with trustful persistence be- 
 lieved in him. 
 
 No matter how earnestly he implored. 
 
Early Experiences, 131 
 
 he could never induce the recruit to tell 
 him anything more of his early history; 
 but in return for his former confidence 
 Robin told him of his own youthful 
 adventures, which, considering that he 
 had not as yet seen many birthdays, were 
 numerous and exciting- 
 
 They began wnth a journey over the 
 plains in his first year, when his father 
 had been ordered from one post to 
 another, forty miles distant, in the north- 
 western State where his regiment was 
 then stationed. Lieutenant Clancy (as 
 he was at that time) had but a small 
 escort, and there were hostile Indians 
 about, which made the trip dangerous. 
 When the journey was nearly made, the 
 little party was attacked by Indians. 
 Mrs. Clancy and her baby son, with 
 Susannah, were travellinor in a Q-overn- 
 ment ambulance ; and during the fight, 
 
132 Robins RecriciL 
 
 which took place at a short distance from 
 it, they were left with the driver. By- 
 and-by some Indians came up to the 
 ambulance, and the driver fled, leaving 
 the women and the child to the tender 
 mercies of the savages. 
 
 " Of course, you know, I can't remem- 
 ber very well about it, for I was just 
 nothing but a baby then," said Robin, 
 having arrived at this point in the story; 
 " but I 've heard it such lots of times 
 that it seems as if I really could remem- 
 ber about Susannah. If it had n't been 
 for Susannah, we should all have been 
 killed." 
 
 " And what did she do ? " inquired 
 Doo2:an. 
 
 " Well, she took a big umbrella, and 
 going to the back of the ambulance, began 
 to scream and jump, and to open and 
 shut the umbrella right in the faces of 
 
Early Experiences, 133 
 
 the savages. It was winter and very cold, 
 and she wore a great red cape with a 
 hood which came up over the head in a 
 peak. The soldiers said that the Indians 
 thouQ-ht she was the Evil One himself. 
 Anyway, they were frightened, and ran 
 off, and we hurried on toward Fort Cas- 
 per, which we soon reached, safe and 
 sound. Father calls Susannah an old 
 Indian campaigner." 
 
 Doogan was greatly entertained by this 
 story. He thought it a joke on Susannah 
 that even the Red Man ran from her. 
 
 " Well," continued Robin, " at Fort 
 Casper there were lots of Indians around 
 the garrison. You might look up any 
 time, and see an old brave with his nose 
 flattened against the window-pane. They 
 would n't dare to hurt you, with the sol- 
 diers so near, but mother was afraid of 
 them, and she 'd scream for Susannah ; 
 
134 Robins RecrttzL 
 
 and when she came, the Indians would 
 always scoot. Mrs. Preston used to want 
 to borrow Susannah, for they lived in 
 the quarters the Indian agent had before, 
 and the Indians used to stalk into her 
 house without knocking, and squat right 
 down by the fire. They never did in 
 ours." 
 
 " Well, I should n't think they would, 
 if the gentle Susannah was a-standin' 
 by with a poker, or a kittle of boilin' 
 water at hand. She 'd as soon scald a 
 man as not, — the lady Susannah." 
 
 " Why, she would n't for anything. 
 You don't know how good she is ; and 
 Doogan, dear old fellow, you must not 
 call her names." 
 
 " Me } May the breath fail me first! 
 Leastways, for any but pet names." 
 
 " Well, I think those are the kind 
 she 'd hate worst ; but you don't know 
 
Early Experiejtces, 135 
 
 how good she is," Robin repeated, " and 
 then, Doogan, she 's brave." 
 
 " Brave ! " laughed Doogan. " What 's 
 the good o' that fer a woman ? One of 
 them Httle purty squeaUn' things is worth 
 twenty of her." 
 
 " If she had been one of those little 
 pretty squealing things, the Indians 
 would have had our scalps. I 'd rather 
 have Susannah as she is," said Robin, 
 stoutly. "Let's drop the subject, Doo- 
 gan, because we '11 never agree. Now 
 you go on with yoicr story. What hap- 
 pened after they put you in the reform 
 school .^ " 
 
 " Suppose we drop subjict number 
 two," Doogan suggested dryly. " Let 's 
 go back to the Injuns." 
 
 " Well, the Indians make a pretty good 
 subject," Robin assented. " I know they 
 made thino;s livelv for us, when we were 
 
136 Robins Recruit. 
 
 out there on the plauis, and gave plenty 
 of other people beside Susannah a chance 
 to show their courage." 
 
 " Susannah again. Lord ! she is 
 always the leadin' lady in the play," 
 murmured Doogan. 
 
 " There was poor Barker, for instance," 
 Robin went on, unmindful of this jest. 
 " Did you ever hear about him ? " 
 
 " Well, no, I can't say I have. He 
 were another brave one, I reckon." 
 
 "He was a bugler boy of B Company. 
 He was a young fellow, and very thin 
 and small. The men used always to call 
 him 'sonny,' and they all laughed and 
 made fun of him; and they said that in 
 a fio'ht with the Indians he would stand 
 behind his rifie and hide himself. There 
 was one man — his name was Hoswell 
 — that said the hardest things of all. 
 Barker used to flush all up, but he 
 
Early Experiences. 137 
 
 would never answer. Hoswell said he 
 did n't dare to, and he had better not. 
 
 '' Well at last one day some men went 
 out after Indians, and Hoswell and 
 poor Barker were with them. They 
 got into a whole nest of redskins, and 
 there was a fio-ht. There were more 
 Indians than soldiers, and it was hot 
 work; but after awhile our men beat the 
 Indians. They captured some, and the 
 rest got away. We lost two men, — poor 
 Sampson, who was found all riddled 
 throuo'h with arrows, and another man 
 who had been picked off before the reg- 
 ular fiorht beofan. Then there were two 
 men missing, Hoswell and Barker. 
 
 " The men remembered seeing Hoswell 
 fio-htino^ like mad, off bv the river; but 
 no one had noticed Barker, and they 
 said he had been hiding somewhere, and 
 would fall in after a while, with a whole 
 skin. 
 
138 Robins Recruit. 
 
 " So, after looking a long while for 
 Hoswell, they started for the garrison. 
 After a week or so passed, and nothing 
 was heard of either of them, everybody 
 supposed that Hoswell had been killed, 
 and Barker had deserted. 
 
 " But one day some ranchmen brought 
 in two men that they had found almost 
 frozen near their ranch, which was ten 
 miles from the post. One of them, they 
 said, had been wounded in an engage- 
 ment with the Indians, who had tied him 
 on a pony, and were carrying him off, 
 when he was rescued, at the peril of his 
 life, by the other man, who, finding that 
 he was n't able to walk, had carried or 
 dragged him along, over the snow and 
 the ice, for nearly ten miles, and had then 
 given up from exhaustion, not knowing 
 there was a ranch so near. 
 
 " The man who had been wounded was 
 
Early Experiences. 139 
 
 Hoswell, and the man who had rescued 
 him, and carried him all that long way 
 in the terrible cold, was the little bugler 
 boy that he had mocked at." 
 
 " They ain't either of em here now," 
 said Doogan ; " what become of 'em ? " 
 
 " They were taken to the hospital, and 
 everything was done for them. After 
 a while, Hoswell was out, as well as ever 
 ao^ain. He o'ot his dischargee before we 
 came to Texas, and I heard that he has 
 settled down now in Helena. But Barker, 
 you see, he was n't so strong, and he — 
 well, he died," said Robin, winking hard 
 to keep the tears back. 
 
 He looked rather sober for a moment, 
 but presently cheered up, and said 
 pluckily, — 
 
 " Anyhow, I would rather have been 
 Barker than Hoswell. Would n't it be 
 fine, Dooo^an, if sometime, after I 'm a 
 
140 ^ Robins Recruit, 
 
 man, we should be together in a fight, 
 and have a chance for some brave action 
 that would make our names always 
 remembered together? I should like 
 that, would n't you ? " 
 
 " Well, I never saw a little chap so 
 bloodthirsty as you are, Captain Robin ; 
 an' sech a soft-speakin', mild little feller 
 too," said Doogan, laughing. " I ain't 
 hankerin' so to be riddled through with 
 arrers as you are; an' I can tell yer them 
 stirrin' deeds yer think so much of are 
 a heap more comfortable to hear about 
 than to go through wdth. Still, if you 're 
 bound fer glory, I 'm with yer." 
 
 " Oh, you would n't flinch, I know," 
 said Robin, in a tone of conviction. " If 
 you only had a chance, 3^ou 'd show 'em. 
 If you only had a chance, you 'd cover 
 yourself with glory." 
 
 " I dun no. I 've a notion that glory 
 
Early Experiences. 141 
 
 is dreadful unsatisfactory business to go 
 in fer. That poor Barker a-moulderin' 
 in his grave ain't gettin' much satisfac- 
 tion out of it, I reckon. I suspect by 
 this time folks have forgotten what he 
 did, even to the other feller, — Hoswell. 
 An' then half the time these chaps throw 
 away their lives jest fer nothin'." 
 
 " That makes no difference," said 
 Robin, grandly. " Did you ever hear 
 that piece called ' The Charge of the 
 Light Brigade ' ? I learned it once, but 
 I get so excited I can't repeat it very 
 well. I just see those fellows dashing 
 along to their death, ' Cannon to right 
 of them, cannon to left of them,' and my 
 throat shuts up, and I can't go on. 
 
 " ' Charge ! ' was the Captain's cry ; 
 
 Theirs not to reason why, 
 Theirs not to make reply, 
 
 Theirs but to do, and die. 
 Into the Valley of Death 
 
 Rode the six hundred. 
 
142 Rodiiis Recruit, 
 
 " That 's the way it goes, Doogan. And 
 then to think that after all it was n't any 
 use. They knew 'some one had blun- 
 dered,' but they were soldiers, and they 
 meant to obey orders, whatever should 
 happen." 
 
 " Well, now, that 's just the sort of a 
 shoe-string that won't fit 7ny shoes," said 
 Doogan, flippantly. 
 
 All through the morning's talk, light 
 and shade had chased each other over 
 Doooan's face. The shadow was now 
 coming. He went on, frowning darkly : 
 
 " If a feller has a mind to throw his 
 life away, that 's his look-out, an' I 
 have n't any objections, — like that 
 ' Barker ' you was tellin' of, — though I 
 may have my own opinion of the sense of 
 him ; but when he throws it away cos he 's 
 ordered to do it, that riles me all up. I 
 reckon I was n't planned out fer a sol- 
 
Early Experie7ices. 143 
 
 dier, fer I ain't hankerin' to do any of 
 them fine deeds. I ain't a bit o' putty 
 that can be squeezed into any shaped 
 crack or a hole, jest to fill up. I 've got 
 to live my own way, an' that way ain't 
 an enlisted man's way. There ain't no 
 use o' pertending to be different from 
 what I am, though with them mournful, 
 beseechin' eyes o' yours a-jabbin' inter 
 me that way, Captain Robin, I 'd say 
 purty much what yer want." 
 
 With Doogan's words a terrible fear 
 shot into Robin's heart, — the fear that 
 Doogan meant to desert. 
 
 " Then say you are joking," he cried, 
 catching at Doogan's sleeve. '* You 
 must be joking. You have promised 
 always to stick to me, and — Dooo-an 
 say that you dojit mean to desert." 
 
 "Lord! no, little kid. I was jest a- 
 jokin'," Doogan answered soothingly. 
 
144 Robins Recruit. 
 
 but his eyes fell before the boy's earnest 
 glance. " Of course I was a-jokin'. Yer 
 must n't worry about that, fer if there 's 
 any feller deserts this post, 't won't be 
 me. 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 A DESERTING SOLDIER. 
 
 TT was moonlight, — the bright moon- 
 light of Texas. It had been a gay 
 eveninor at Fort Carev, beofinninor with a 
 band concert. Later, there was sinGfing^ 
 and laughter on the porches of the offi- 
 cers' quarters, and now and then one 
 caught the glitter of an officer's accoutre- 
 ments, and the flash of a white dress, as 
 a promenading couple passed under one 
 of the lamps that outlined the parade- 
 ground. There was merry-making 
 enough, too, at the barracks, but through 
 it all John Doogan sat moodily by him- 
 self on the barrack porch, smoking his 
 pipe, and thinking of the events of the 
 
 lO 
 
146 
 
 Robin s Recruit. 
 
 da}^ which of a certainty were anything 
 but pleasant to remember. 
 
 " Doogan sat moodily by himself on the barrack porch." 
 
 That morning there had been a bat- 
 talion inspection. At the call for as- 
 sembly, different companies had formed. 
 
A Deserting Soldier. 147 
 
 At the word of command, they opened 
 ranks ; and the inspector, with major, 
 captain, and other officers who them- 
 selves had previously been inspected, 
 passed between the lines, inspecting the 
 arms, accoutrements, dress, and ammuni- 
 tion of each soldier. Poor Dooo^an had 
 been reprimanded for carelessness ; and 
 that had been the bes^inninof of a series 
 of disagreeable experiences, the last of 
 which promised serious trouble for him. 
 Captain Clancy, having made up his 
 company's account, had ordered him to 
 pay his canteen bill. This was for such 
 articles as he had bous^ht at the canteen 
 building, a sort of shop for the soldiers' 
 convenience. Doogan was ready and 
 willing to pay the bill ; but the tone of 
 authority in which the order was given 
 struck unpleasantly on his sore and defi- 
 ant mood, and angered him. He gave 
 
148 Robins Recruit. 
 
 the captain an ugly look, and answered 
 recklessly, — 
 
 " I '11 pay it when I 'm ready." 
 
 There was no doubt the captain would 
 prefer charges against him for disrespect 
 to an officer, and he would be tried by 
 court-martial. One of the old soldiers, 
 in a tone more expressive of satisfaction 
 than sympathy, had informed him what 
 his punishment was likely to be, — a 
 month's imprisonment and the loss of a 
 month's pay. 
 
 " A month's imprisonment ! Poof ! 
 Did they take him for a fool, then ? " 
 
 Doogan got up, and stepping inside 
 the barrack room, glanced at the clock, 
 and then passed out again into the moon- 
 light, sauntering along carelessly. Below 
 the garrison ran the creek, outlined by 
 the shadowy verdure along its banks, 
 and winding through the chaparral, 
 
A Deserting Soldier, 149 
 
 which, so monotonous by daylight, was 
 now soft and beautiful, — an endless 
 realm of mystery. Mystery of all things 
 was what Doogan coveted that night. 
 He loved the shadows, for his purpose 
 was to hide and fly. 
 
 Having passed outside the garrison, he 
 walked cautiously on the edge of the 
 road toward the little town. The air 
 was clear, and he distinctly heard the 
 call for taps. 
 
 ''TAPS," OR, EXTINGUISH LIGHTS. 
 
 Slow 
 
 ^dj^^^EgE^gg 
 
 Put out your lights, Put out your lights, Put 
 
 . . . out . . . your .... lights, 
 
 _<2 , ^ 
 
 ^m^sai^ 
 
 Put out your lights, Put out your lights. 
 
150 Robins Recruit. 
 
 He repeated it under his breath, with 
 a feeling: of scorn for " those fools that 
 stayed there to be driven like sheep into 
 a shed, in a night like this." 
 
 He hid among some bushes down on 
 the edge of the town, and waited, listen- 
 ing intently for the sound of wheels. 
 
 Just about this time the wagon of a 
 certain man he knew was due at this 
 point, on its course toward his ranch, six 
 miles distant. He was a simple fellow, 
 who, Doogan was sure, for a little money 
 would hide him until it would be safer for 
 him to be abroad, when he meant to walk 
 to the station below Plunkett, and take 
 the train there. So he crouched low in 
 the bushes, and waited. 
 
 Instead of the creak of the ranchman's 
 wagon, he heard the delicious notes of a 
 nightingale. There are those who can 
 listen unmoved to this sweetest of music, 
 
A Deserting Soldier. 151 
 
 while in others it stirs tender and gentle 
 thoughts. Doogan thought of Robin, 
 and instinctively he put his hand over 
 the pocket where he had tucked a photo- 
 graph of the little fellow that he had 
 once given him. 
 
 " There 't is," he said to himself. " I 
 would n't want to lose the picter of the 
 only friend I ever had. Queer little kid 
 he is, anyhow. He took a likin' to me 
 right at the start, an' queer enough it 
 was, but he ain't got an eddicated taste, 
 — that 's it. His recruit I was. Poor 
 little chap, he won't have any recruit 
 ter-morrer, or my name ain't John Doo- 
 gan, alias — well, no matter 'bout that. 
 I 'spect likely he 's goin' to miss me some. 
 Sho ! why don't that bird shut up with 
 his tooral-looralin' } " 
 
 He ^ crept along impatiently, but he 
 could still hear the pure notes of the 
 
152 Robins Recruit. 
 
 nightingale, and his thoughts, too, kept 
 pace with him. 
 
 " Yes ; the little chap took a likin' to 
 me, an' I took a likin' to him, as anybody 
 would. I would have been glad to know 
 before I come away that he was a-gettin' 
 well. He 's in a bad way, an' the little 
 face of him seems to me to be o^rowin' 
 peakeder all the time. That 's the way 
 it is : a little feller like him that's good 
 clear dow^n to the ground, an' is bound 
 to grow up to be of use in the world, is 
 hauled right up out of it, an' a feller like 
 me is left with the strength of a beast to 
 go as fast as he can to the bad. Shoo, 
 shoo, you fool bird, why dont you shut 
 up ? " 
 
 Sounds of footsteps and voices 
 approaching along the road from the 
 town now gave his thoughts a new 
 direction. 
 
A Deserting Soldier. 153 
 
 " Old Corrigan an' Corporal Smith," 
 he murmured, as, cautiously peeping out, 
 he caught a glimpse of the two hurrying 
 figures. " What are they down here fer ? 
 'T would be jest my luck to have that 
 pesky wagon come along now, when I 
 can't skip out an' show myself." 
 
 He waited breathless, while the two 
 men passed him. 
 
 " I knew he was a bad lot, the first 
 time I ever set my eves on that scowlino- 
 red phiz he 's got. You never see a 
 man with those bold, ugly eyes that has 
 any good in him, and there is n't any 
 good in Doogan. I tell you I keep a 
 stiddy eye on him, for he 's bound to 
 desert sometime." 
 
 The sergeant's sharp voice fell dis- 
 tinctly on the clear air, and the deserting 
 soldier smiled grimly. 
 
 " Talk 's cheap, old Braggadocio," he 
 
154 Robms Recruit, 
 
 muttered, " an' that stiddy eye o' yours 
 is off dooty jest at the wrong time, 
 Good-by, Corrigan, old boy. May yer 
 success be greater next time ! " 
 
 The men had passed, and were at the 
 top of the hill before Doogan allowed 
 himself to stir. Then he got up slowly, 
 and took a look at the old fort, outlined 
 clearly against the soft moonlit sky. 
 
 Of all that garrison there was but one 
 who would ever in the future give him a 
 kind thought. All save one would agree 
 with Corrigan that there was no good in 
 him, but he knew that one, with un- 
 shaken fidelity, would still believe he 
 was not altogether bad. 
 
 Doogan counted the houses along the 
 line, until he came to Captain Clancy's. 
 The windows were all dark except those 
 of the room where Robin lay. 
 
 " Mebbe he 's havin' one of them sick 
 
A Deserting Soldier. 155 
 
 spells o' his," he said to himself uneasily, 
 for he remembered how the fever and 
 pain exhausted him, and that after such 
 a night he liked to be carried out into 
 the fresh air, and that his first call would 
 be for Dooo^an. 
 
 There was something in Doogan's 
 nature, hardened though it was, that 
 made it difificult for him to desert a friend 
 in distress. Yet he asked himself impa- 
 tiendy how he could be certain that 
 Robin was not sleeping peacefully, not- 
 withstanding that light shining from the 
 windows of his room. 
 
 " Ten to one, 't is the taper of my 
 beauteous Susannah a-passin' through 
 his room to her own lily couch. 'T is 
 the transit o' Wenus the chaplain was 
 a-talkin' of th' other night, when him 
 an' some o' the men was a-lookin' at the 
 stars." 
 
156 Robins Recruit. 
 
 But this little pleasantry did not quiet 
 Doogan's misgivings. That light in the 
 window w^as like a soft voice, — a little, 
 kind voice, — that called to him across 
 the night, and pleaded with him to stay. 
 The clinging loyalty of little Robin 
 seemed to hold him as with cords. 
 
 Even the noise of the ranchman's 
 heavy wagon, as it finally came rumbling 
 alono: the road, could not drown this soft 
 voice, as Doogan stumbled out of the 
 bushes, and stood looking sharply at the 
 vehicle to verify it as that of his friend. 
 
 " Lord! I 've a mind to wait an' trot 
 him out once more," he said to himself 
 as he stood there. " Ter-morrer night 
 will do as well fer me as ter-night, fer all 
 I know. Anyhow, I '11 risk it fer the 
 little kid. An' ter-morrer night I '11 not be 
 lookin' back at the old hole, an' havin' 
 any more o' this foolishness." 
 
A Deserting Soldier. 157 
 
 So the wagon passed on, — the man 
 inside, half asleep, not recognizing Doo- 
 gan, who now walked back again to the 
 garrison. 
 
 At this hour the sentry was posted by 
 the gate, and he would be caught out of 
 quarters after taps ; but he walked on 
 resolutely, thinking alternately of Robin 
 and of what he called his own milk-and- 
 water foolishness. 
 
 Drawn by the light shining from the 
 window, he hurried on, little guessing to 
 what fate love was leading him. 
 
 '' Ter-morrer night," he kept saying to 
 himself, — " ter-morrer night 's the time, 
 or I '11 deserve the luck of a noodle that 
 hangs round to be locked up for a month 
 in that old guard-house." 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 DANGER. 
 
 Fire ! fire ! 
 
 fire ! fire ! 
 
 fire! 
 
 -P- 
 
 
 fire! fire! fire! fire! 
 
 Go, get your buckets, 
 
 '--^-- 
 
 
 mm 
 
 get your buck-ets, get your buck-ets, soldiers! 
 
 Get your buckets, get your buckets, get your buckets, all 
 
Danger. 159 
 
 It was hot, terribly hot. on the day 
 that would be Doogan's last at Fort 
 Carey. Summer heat had all at once 
 burst like a bomb over the land, which 
 seemed to shrivel and scorch under it. 
 One of the men was sunstruck at inspec- 
 tion, dropping down from the ranks as if 
 hit by a bullet. 
 
 The heat was too great for Robin to 
 go out until after the sun should go 
 down, at which time he sent word to 
 Dooean he would be 2:lad if he would 
 come for him. At noon, however, a 
 playful little breeze sprang up, which at 
 the time every one welcomed gratefully, 
 little thinkino' of the mischief it would 
 do later. 
 
 After luncheon Robin lay down on 
 the parlor lounge, while his mother sat by 
 his side and fanned him, hoping he would 
 fall asleep and get the rest he so much 
 
i6o Robins Recruit. 
 
 needed after his night of wakefulness and 
 pain. It made her heart ache to look at 
 this little, quiet shadow of her once active, 
 rugged boy, with his noisy boy ways, his 
 disregard of danger, and his cheerful 
 talk. With soft mother-touch she 
 smoothed back from his forehead the 
 still brio'ht chestnut curls, which, as 
 some one had said, was all of Robin 
 Clancy that seemed left as it used to be. 
 
 Dr. Bemis was impatient to have him 
 taken away from Texas ; and urged by 
 the sudden heat, she had decided to start 
 at once, without waiting for the captain, 
 who, if he got his leave, would follow 
 them. 
 
 Robin's heavy eyes had closed, and he 
 lay quite still, breathing gently, so that 
 his mother nodded brightly to Susannah, 
 who, good soul, had crept into the room 
 in her stocking feet, to see if Robin were 
 
Danger. 
 
 i6i 
 
 
 
 
 1^ 
 
 
 
 •' It made her heart ache to look at this little, quiet shadow 
 of her once active, rugged boy." 
 
 II 
 
1 62 Robins Recruit, 
 
 sleeping, and to persuade Mrs. Clancy 
 to go and lie down. 
 
 It was then about three o' clock ; and 
 every one, unless compelled to be at work, 
 sought the cool and quiet of shaded 
 rooms, and the forgetfulness of sleep. 
 But suddenly a bugle-call stirred the 
 drowsy garrison into wakefulness. 
 
 It was the call for fire. 
 
 Ladies and children came tumbling 
 out of their quarters, and hastened away 
 to the farther end of the garrison below 
 the old parade-ground. There was a 
 continual tramp of hurrying feet "and the 
 sound of excited voices. Robin woke up 
 with a start, crying, — 
 
 "What is it, mother? What has 
 happened } " 
 
 Susannah, having run out to see 
 where the fire was, came in just in time 
 to answer the questiouo 
 
Danger. 163 
 
 " It 's a terrible fire broke out in the 
 quartermaster's building. There 's no 
 good frowning at me so, ^liss Maggy ; 
 we can't keep it from Robin, anyhow, an' 
 he ain't so silly as to fret, when he knows 
 we 're all safe and sound." 
 
 Two of the ladies now rushed in to 
 see if Mrs. Clancy would go with them 
 to look at the fire. 
 
 " Let me go too, mother; I mtist go," 
 cried Robin ; but his mother distressfully 
 shook her head, saying it would be better 
 for him to stay quietly where he was. 
 
 The poor boy, so long foremost in 
 every adventure, flung himself back with 
 a sob on the sofa. He was trembling 
 with excitement, and it did not seem 
 possible to submit to any such sentence. 
 
 Fortunately, Susannah came to the 
 rescue in a way she had, often swooping 
 suddenly down upon him into his valley 
 
164 Robms Recruit. 
 
 of humiliation, and bearing him aloft to 
 a pinnacle of triumph. 
 
 " There 's no use, Miss Maggy, taking 
 up with the notion that he 's going to 
 stay here and finish out his nap just 
 'cause he 's told to. He can't. There 's 
 no more nap for any one at Fort Carey 
 till that fire 's out. He '11 fret himself 
 into a fever in here. I know I should. 
 Now you run along with Mrs. Preston 
 and Mrs. Grey, and I '11 take care of 
 Robin." 
 
 She ended with a glance at those 
 ladies which seemed to say, — 
 
 " You just look after this child, and 
 I '11 look after the other one." 
 
 Mrs. Clancy, perceiving the wisdom 
 of Susannah's words, picked up a fan 
 and a parasol, and hurried away with 
 her friends. 
 
 " Now, boy, we '11 fix ourselves and 
 
Danger. 165 
 
 see what's going on," said Susannah; 
 " but we 're going to take it cool and 
 easy, as if we had some sense in our 
 noddles, ain't we ? " 
 
 " I suppose so," answered Robin, who 
 was throbbing with impatience. 
 
 He watched Susannah while she 
 wheeled out his chair and secured to it 
 a big umbrella as a protection from the 
 vivid afternoon sun. There was even a 
 pillow for his head, which he would have 
 ungratefully pitched out, had he not 
 been sure that he would be cbliored to 
 wait till she had brushed every speck of 
 dust from it and rearranged it for him. 
 
 As Susannah and Robin passed along, 
 they could see the smoke rising from 
 what they supposed to be the quarter- 
 master's building, where they had been 
 told the fire was, and which with various 
 other buildino^s was hidden from them 
 
1 66 Robins Recruit, 
 
 by a dip in the ground. Having passed 
 around this slight hill, what a terrible 
 sight presented itself ! Not only the 
 quartermaster's building, but the bake- 
 shop, saw-mill, and an old sutler's 
 building were swept over by flames 
 fanned by that apparently innocent 
 breeze that was now blowing briskly. 
 
 The offlcers and men were trying to 
 save what they could from the quarter- 
 masters building, which, beside the 
 government stores, contained papers of 
 value. 
 
 " Who cares for those things ? " cried 
 poor little Mrs. Daly, who with a group 
 of other ladies stood watching the scene. 
 " Why will they risk their lives in that 
 dreadful building .^^ Oh, Mrs. Clancy, 
 my husband is in that quartermaster's 
 building now ! " 
 
 " So is Captain Clancy," answered 
 
Danger. 167 
 
 Robin's mother, who had not been the 
 wife of a soldier for twelve years without 
 having learned to control her fears in 
 the presence of danger. " I think they 
 won't be foolhardy, and you know it's 
 their duty to make every effort to save 
 governm.ent property." 
 
 " There 's my father," said Robin, 
 speaking for the first time since he had 
 faced that awful spectacle. " Where is 
 Doogan ? " 
 
 " Doogan ? Well, I declare ! " ejacu- 
 lated Susannah; "dead drunk, probably, 
 down at the Merry Mule." 
 
 " Oh, no, he is not," said Mrs. Clancy ; 
 " he is here, working like a tiger. He 
 is over there on the roof of the old sut- 
 ler's store. They seem very anxious to 
 beat the fire back and save it. See ! 
 they are pouring w-ater on the roof. 
 The heat up there must be dreadful. " 
 
1 68 Robins Recruit. 
 
 The sutler's store, like nearly all the 
 other buildings at Fort Carey, was of 
 stone, but the roof was shingled. On 
 the extreme edge of the ridgepole sat 
 Doogan pouring pailfuls of water that 
 were handed up to him from below over 
 the roof. Every third pailful he poured 
 over his own head, to enable himself to 
 bear the fierce heat from the burning 
 quartermaster's building, which was 
 within a few feet of the sutler's store. 
 
 Mrs. Clancy walked away a few steps 
 with the major's wife, who had beckoned 
 to her. 
 
 '^ I 've found out why they are so 
 
 anxious to save that building," she said ; 
 
 " but I could n't tell you before Mrs. 
 
 Daly, who is frightened enough as it is. 
 
 It seems the powder was put in there 
 
 while the arsenal is being repaired." 
 " Why don't they take the powder 
 
 out?" asked Mrs. Clancy. 
 
Danger. 169 
 
 *' Because they have n't the key. The 
 ordnance sergeant has it, and he is not 
 to be found. Drunk, I suppose." 
 
 " Then why don't they break down 
 the door.?^" 
 
 " They tried to do that, but it 's made 
 very strong, with iron clamps, and they 
 didn't find it easy. See! they are 
 going to try again now. At first it was 
 forgotten that the powder was in there. 
 The fire started in the saw-mill, and no 
 one thought it would extend so far. Then 
 when the danger was appreciated, a good 
 deal of time was lost looking for the 
 ordnance sergeant. How hot it must be 
 where that man is ! It 's Robin's recruit, 
 is n't it, — Doogan } He fights like a 
 hero, but he can't stand it much longer. 
 If the powder is not taken out soon, the 
 flames will reach it." 
 
 The two women, realizing what this 
 
I/O 
 
 Robin s Recruit, 
 
 meant, — the destruction of the garrison, 
 — looked anxiously at each other. Mrs. 
 Clancy's pretty color died out, and the 
 major's wife trembled. But they had 
 both braved many dangers, and they did 
 not lose courage now. They joined the 
 group from which they had just sepa- 
 rated, but their eyes were turned away 
 from the quartermaster's building and 
 toward the roof of the sutler's store, 
 where, enveloped in smoke, Doogan was 
 still fighting the fire. 
 
 By this time the heat facing those 
 furious flames was almost intolerable. 
 Through all the soot and the grime on 
 the man's face one might see the scorched 
 look of the skin. His eyes (they might 
 have guessed that) were almost sight- 
 less. Once he came down the ladder, 
 and another tried to take his place, but 
 soon came tumbling down, vowing no 
 
Danger, 171 
 
 man could bear such heat, and in a 
 moment Doogan was up on the roof 
 again. 
 
 " He is a brave fellow," people said, as 
 they watched him with wonder. 
 
 But as for Robin, he only felt that his 
 friend was in danger. In his weak little 
 treble he screamed for Doogan to come 
 down, but in the furious pell-mell of that 
 wild scene no one heard or noticed 
 him. 
 
 The soldiers had now succeeded in 
 breaking down the door of the sutler s 
 store, and were removing the powder, 
 but Doogan's great strength was ex- 
 hausted. Twice he was seen to sway in 
 his seat on the ridgepole, and only 
 by a visible effort of the wnll saved 
 himself from falling. 
 
 He had the strength of a lion, but he 
 was a lion in torture, blinded by smoke, 
 
172 Robins Recrtiit. 
 
 and with the breath of the fire in his 
 nostrils. 
 
 Odd thoughts were his up there with 
 the flames and the danger. Bits of his 
 past life flew past him like scenes in a 
 panorama. It had been full of errors, 
 and he had been pitiably weak, but he 
 was strong now, and he meant to hold 
 in check those furious flames. He 
 . clinched his teeth, and poured bucket 
 after bucket of water over the roof. If 
 his strength would only last till the pow- 
 der was removed, it was all he asked or 
 cared for. 
 
 Snatches of Robin's favorite poems 
 came to him, one line in particular 
 humming itself over and over in his 
 brain, — 
 
 " Theirs but to do, and die." 
 
 Oh, if his strength would only last! 
 but it was going — going. 
 
Da7zger. 1 73 
 
 There was a crash, as the roof of the 
 quartermaster's building fell in. There 
 were continual explosions, as at leneth 
 the flames reached the cans of oil stored 
 there. There was the ferocious roarins; 
 and tearing of the flames, with bursts of 
 black, blinding smoke, and through it 
 all the sound of hoarse voices below. 
 
 Finally the men at the foot of the 
 ladder shouted to him, — 
 
 " The powder is out. Come down, 
 come down ! " 
 
 And utterly exhausted, he tumbled 
 like a log into their outstretched arms. 
 
 Was he dead or living, the poor, 
 brave boy, — their deliverer .^ The weak, 
 shameless young soldier, who had yet in 
 this extremity risen to such an act of 
 grandeur. 
 
 They laid him on the ground, and, 
 gathering around, looked at him with 
 
174 Robins Recruit. 
 
 grateful eyes and lips generous of praise. 
 But he hardly saw or heard them, only 
 as they lifted him again, and moved 
 slowly toward the hospital, one voice, the 
 softest of all, reached his dull ear, and for 
 an instant one face in that waving mass 
 of faces grew distinct. Smiling through 
 his pain, he waved his hand to Robin. 
 
 All that human skill could do was 
 done for Doogan, but too long he had 
 breathed that heated air to make recov- 
 ery possible. The surgeons believed 
 that he would not live throuo^h the niorht. 
 
 At midnight he beckoned to Dr. 
 Bemis, and spoke to him. 
 
 " Tell him," he gasped, " tell the little 
 kid I was glad it turned out jest so. Tell 
 him I 'm sure now never to break my 
 promise to him. Yes, tell him 't was the 
 ^;2/k way, and — I wasn't sorry. He's 
 
Daiiger. 175 
 
 been the only friend I ever had, but I 
 want you to say that I hope he won't feel 
 bad nor fret an' work amn his srettin' 
 well, nor yet ter forgit me altogether. 
 I 'd like to have seen his little face once 
 
 more, but you '11 tell him good-by fer 
 
 •>■) 
 me. 
 
 He spoke only once again, when just 
 before he died he tried to raise his hand, 
 — the great right hand that had been so 
 powerful, — and it fell feebly back ao-ain 
 on the mattress. 
 
 " My strength 's clear gone," he whis- 
 pered ; " I Ve took a notion it 's a-goin' 
 now to the little kid, an' I 'm glad, fer 
 he '11 use it better 'n I could. The little 
 kid is a-goin' to git w^ll." 
 
CHAPTER XI. 
 
 CONCLUSION. 
 
 TT was the day after Doogan was 
 buried that Robin left Fort Carey. 
 Those who saw his sad, white face at 
 the ambulance window on the morning 
 that the Clancys started for the north, 
 prophesied that he never would be 
 brought back to the regiment again. In- 
 deed, at the beginning of that long jour- 
 ney he seemed so weak that many times 
 his mother and Susannah regretted ever 
 having undertaken it ; but each day he 
 erew strono-er. He was but a child, and 
 though he deeply mourned his friend, he 
 was interested in new scenes and faces. 
 At Galveston they took the steamer for 
 
Conclusion. 1 7 7 
 
 New York ; and the fresh sea-air, so dif- 
 ferent from the dry, heated atmosphere 
 of Carey, sent a current of fresh life 
 bounding through Robin's veins. 
 
 Dr. Bern is had faithfully reported to 
 him Doogan's last words and messages, 
 which made a deep impression on his 
 childish mind. Each mornins^ on wak- 
 ing, as he smiled up into his mother's 
 face bent over his berth, he would say, — 
 
 " A g^reat deal more of dear Dooo^an's 
 strensfth came to me last nio^ht. I shall 
 try to use it well for him." 
 
 A few weeks before this story was 
 written, and some years after the events 
 which it relates took place, as the band 
 was playing gayly at inspection on the 
 parade-ground at Fort Carey, a young 
 man in a lieutenant's uniform rode out 
 of the eastern gate, and made his way 
 
 12 
 
178 Robins Recruit, 
 
 toward what is called the soldiers' grave- 
 yard. He was a finely built young fellow 
 of unusual strength and beauty. 
 
 This officer was none other than Robin 
 or Robert Clancy, who had just graduated 
 from West Point, and was stationed at 
 Fort Sam Houston at San Antonio. 
 He had just obtained leave of absence 
 for a couple of days to come to Fort 
 Carey, for the first time since childhood, 
 to visit the grave of one he called a dear 
 friend. 
 
 As he rode along, instead of the chap- 
 arral spreading out under the pleasant 
 morning sunshine, he saw the grimy 
 but splendid figure of Doogan outlined 
 against flames. 
 
 " If, as they say, I have unusual suc- 
 cess in managing men, it is because of 
 him," the young lieutenant thought, as 
 at last he looked down at the name on 
 
Conclusion, 179 
 
 the rough, unhewn stone that marked 
 the resting-place of Robin's recruit. 
 '' Who that witnessed his splendid cour- 
 age, his grand fidelity, at that crowning 
 moment of his poor life, could for a 
 moment lose faith in human nature? 
 Such a sacrifice cannot have been in 
 vain." 
 
 THE END- 
 
Messrs. Roberts Brothers' Juveniles. 
 
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 ILLUSTRATED. 
 
 This, the most famous of 
 all the famous books by Miss 
 Alcott, is now presented in 
 an illustrated edition, with 
 
 Nearly Two Hundred Character- 
 istic Designs, 
 
 drawn and engraved expressly 
 for this work. It is safe to 
 say that there are not many 
 homes which have not been 
 made happier through the 
 healthy influence of this cele- 
 brated book, which can now 
 be had in a fit dress for the 
 centre table of the domestic 
 Preside, 
 
 One handsome small quarto 
 
 volume, bound in cloth, with em- 
 
 H blematic cover designs. Price 
 
 ROBERTS BROTHERS, 
 
 Publishers, Boston. 
 
LOUISE CHANDLER MOULTON'S STORIES. 
 
 
 BED-TIME STORIES. 
 
 MORE BED-TIME STORIES. 
 NEW BED-TIME STORIES. 
 FIRELIGHT STORIES. 
 
 STORIES TOLD AT TWILIGHT. 
 WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY ADDIE LEDYARD. 
 Five volumes in a box. Price, 36.25. 
 
 ROBERTS BROTHERS, Publishers, 
 
 BOSTON. 
 
 1% 
 
LOUISA M. ALCOTT'S FAMOUS BOOKS. 
 
 "Sing, Tessa, Sing!" cried Tommo, twanging away with all his might.— Page 47. 
 
 AUNT JO'S SCRAP-BAG: Containing " Mv Boys/* 
 "Shawl-Straps," "Cupid and Chow-Chow," "My Girls'," Jimmy's 
 Cruise in the Pinafore," "An Old-Fashioned Thanksgiving." 6 vols. 
 Price of each, $t.co. 
 
 ROBERTS BROTHERS. Publishers, Bosfojt.