I reckons him an' me talks of that mother an' sweetheart of his a hundred times.
"'It falls out that where we fords the Pecos we runs up on a Mexican Plaza--the "Plaza Chico" they-all calls it--an' we camps thar by the river a week, givin' our cattle a chance to roll an' recooperate up on the grass an' water.
"'Then we goes p'intin' out for the settin' sun ag'in, allowin' to strike the Rio Grande some'ers below Albuquerque.

Captain Edson, while we're pesterin' 'round at the Plaza Chico, attaches to his retinoo a Mexican boy; an' as our boogles begins to sing an' we lines out for that west'ard push, this yere boy rides along with Edson an' the lancers.
"'Our old war chief who has charge of our wanderin's is strictly stern an' hard.

An' I reckons now he's the last gent to go makin' soft allowances for any warmth of yooth, or puttin' up with any primrose paths of gentle dalliance, of any an' all who ever buckles on a set of side arms.

It thus befalls that when he discovers on the mornin' of the second day that this Mexican boy is a Mexican girl, he goes ragin' into the ambient air like a eagle.
"'The Old Man claps Edson onder arrest an' commands the girl to saddle up an' go streakin' for the Plaza Chico.

As it's only a slow day's march an' as these Mexicans knows the country like a coyote, it's a cinch the girl meets no harm an' runs no resks.