I tell you life in camp is fine, and no mistake.

Slept in a dog-tent last night with a full-blooded Indian--Choctaw or something of that kind, one of the best fellows I ever met.

Couldn't catch on to his name, but it doesn't make any difference, for all the boys call him 'Hully Gee'-- 'Hully' for short, you know.
"But such fun and such a rum crowd you never saw! Why, there are cowboys, ranchers, prospectors, coppers, ex-sheriffs, sailors, mine-owners, men from every college in the country, tennis champions, football-players, rowing-men, polo-players, planters, African explorers, big-game hunters, ex-revenue-officers, and Indian-fighters, besides any number of others who have led the wildest kinds of life, all chock-full of stories, and ready to fire 'em off at a touch of the trigger.

Teddy hasn't come yet, and so I haven't been able to do anything for you; but you must trot right out, all the same, and join our mess.

Besides, I want you to pick out a horse for me, something nice and quiet, 'cause I'm not a dead game rider, you know.