It was a good long spell ago, when I was at Fort Supply, which was the frontier in them days like this is now.

We freighted in from Dodge City with bull teams, and it was sure the fringe of the frontier; no women--no society--nothin' much except a fort, a lot of Injuns, and a few officials with their wives and families.

Now them kind of places is all right for married men, but they're tough sleddin' for single ones, and after a while a feller gets awful careless about himself; he seems to go backward and run down mighty quick when he gets away from civilization and his people and restaurants and such things; he gets plumb reckless and forgetful of what's what.

Well, there was a captain with us, a young feller that looked like the Lieutenant here, and a good deal the same sort--high-tempered and chivalrious and all that sort of thing; a West Pointer, too, good family and all that, and, what's more, a captain at twenty-five.

Now, our head freighter was married to a squaw, or leastways he had been, but in them days nobody thought much of it any more than they do up here now, and particularly because he'd had a government contract for a long while, ran a big gang of men and critters, and had made a lot of money.