"I wasn't lost, but I hadn't any more money than--than--than a--a--a rabbit when I found Fremont and Ned at El Paso.

And my clothes looked like they'd come out of a ragbag.
Wore 'em out reclinin' in my side-door Pullman." "You're fixed up all right now for clothes," observed the drummer, looking the boy's well-dressed, muscular figure over with approving eyes.
"George Fremont bought these," said Jimmie, looking down at his suit.
"All right, ain't it?
I'm goin' to pay him back when I get to working again.

I don't want anybody to give me anything." "Lieutenant Gordon's son is a patrol leader at Washington," the drummer said, after a thoughtful pause, "and I suppose that's the reason he helped me out.

I reckon a Boy Scout can find friends in any part of the world, if he is deserving of them.

I found a Mexican boy, over here in the hills, who belongs to a patrol he calls the Owl.