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got a plan and I thought perhaps you would be glad to ’ear of it. I ’ave the ’abit of observing things, and most soldiers don’t. Why, bless me, you can march them into a country and out again, and with their eyes front, they don’t see a bloomin’ thing. They’re trained to see nothin’. They’re good for nothin’ but to do as they’re bid. I used to be in the army in the old country, and once at Baldershot I saw Lord Bullsley come along on horseback and stop two soldiers carryin’ a soup-pail.

“ ‘Give me a taste of that,’ says he, and one of them runs off and gets a ladle and gives him a taste. He spits it out and makes a face and shouts:

“ ‘Good heavens! man, you don’t call that stuff soup, do you?’

“ ‘No, sir,’ says the man. ‘It’s dishwater that we was a-hemptyin’.’ That’s the soldier all over again. He ’adn’t sense enough to tell him beforehand.”

“I don’t see, sergeant, what that has to do with me,” said Sam curtly.

“Well, sir, perhaps it hasn’t. But I only wanted to say that I ain’t that kind of a man. I sees and thinks for myself. Now I ’ear that they’ve got a letter captured from Gomaldo askin’ General Baluna for reinforcements, and that they’ve got some letters from Baluna too, and know his handwritin’. I only wanted to say that I used to be a writin’-master and that I can copy any writin’ goin’ or any signature either, so you can’t tell them apart. Now why couldn’t we forge an answer from Baluna to Gomaldo and send the first reinforcements ourselves? He wants a ’undred men at a time. And then we could capture Gomaldo as easy as can be. We could find him in the mountains. I know a lot of these natives ’ere who would go with us if we paid them well.”

“We should have to dress them up in the native uniform,” said Sam. “I don’t know whether that would be quite honorable.”

The sergeant smiled knowingly, but said nothing.

“Do you think we could get native officers to do such a thing?” Sam asked.

“Oh, yes! Plenty of them. I know one or two. At first they wouldn’t like it. But give them money enough and commissions in our army, and they’d do it.”

“How different they are from us!” mused Sam. “Nobody in our army, officer or man, could ever be approached in that way.”

“It seems to me I’ve read somewhere of one of our principal generals⁠—Maledict Donald, wasn’t it?”

Sam thought best not to hear this.

“But we would have to send some of our own officers on such an expedition,” he said. “We couldn’t disguise them as natives.”

“That wouldn’t be necessary. They can go as if they were prisoners⁠—you and two or three others you could pick out. I’d like to go too. And then I’d expect good pay if the thing went through, and a commission as lieutenant.”

“There’d be no trouble about that,” answered Sam. “I’ll think it over, and perhaps consult the general about it and let you know by tomorrow.”

“Very good, sir. I’m Sergeant Keene of the 5th Company, 39th Infantry.”

As the sergeant went out Cleary came in, and Sam laid the matter before him.

“I know that fellow by sight,” said Cleary. “They say he’s served several terms for forgery and counterfeiting. I don’t like his looks. That’s a great scheme though, if it does seem a little like bunco-steering. It’s all right in war perhaps.”

“Yes,” said Sam. “We have a higher standard of honor than civilians. I’ll go and see the general about it now.”

After some consultation the general approved the plan and authorized Sam to carry it out. The latter set Keene to work at once at forging a letter from Baluna acknowledging receipt of the orders for reinforcements and informing Gomaldo that he was sending him the first company of one hundred troops. Meanwhile he selected three officers of the Regular Army to accompany him besides Keene, and through the latter approached three native officers who had been captured at San Diego. One of these was a close confidential friend of Gomaldo’s, but Keene succeeded after much persuasion in winning them all over. It was an easier task to make up a company of native privates, who readily followed their officers when a small payment on account had been given to each man.

“I don’t quite like the job,” Sam confessed to Cleary, “but the general says it’s all right and so it must be.”

At last the expedition started out. All the natives were dressed in the native uniform, and the five white men were clad as privates in the invading army and held as prisoners. After passing the outposts near San Diego they turned toward the south in the direction of the mountains where Gomaldo’s captured letter had been dated. They were received with rejoicings in each native village as soon as they showed the forged letter of Baluna and exhibited their white prisoners. The villagers showed much interest in the latter, but treated them kindly, expressing their pity for them and offering them food. They had no difficulty in obtaining exact directions as to Gomaldo’s situation, but found that it lay in the midst of an uninhabited district where it was impossible to obtain supplies, the village where he had established his headquarters being the only one within many miles. They scraped together what food they could in the shape of rice, Indian corn, and dried beef, and set out on the last stage of their journey. There had been heavy rains recently, and the mountain paths were almost impassable. There were swift rivers to cross, precipices to climb, and jungles to penetrate. The heat was intense, and the men began to suffer from it. The advance was very slow, and soon the provisions gave out. It began to seem probable that the whole expedition would perish in the mountains. Sam called a council of war, and, at Keene’s

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