Theatrical day I had the pleasure of escorting a party of the profession, whose names in glittering light frequently adorned the theatres along Forty-second Street and the “Great White Way,” through the marine camp, the Pike, Cheyenne Joe’s, and later joined in the merriment at a dinner in the Tyrolean Alps. A quartette of Indian chiefs occupied a table some distance from ours, among whom was the famous old Apache warrior Geronimo. On learning that one of the chiefs was Geronimo, a member of our party, a celebrated singer of coon songs, expressed a desire to meet him, whereupon I invited the Indians to join the “Merry Wanderers of the Night.” After the introduction the old chief made a speech in the Apache tongue; they sang, danced, chanted, and became quite hilarious; this was not due, however, to the stimulants of the Tyrolean Alps, for, although the Indians would have relished a mint julep, they were obliged to indulge in milder potations. Each chief, before departing, had ardently proposed to the actress of his choice, who accepted him in the language and manner of the stage. The wee hours of the morning were gliding by as this jovial party of merrymakers boarded their “special” of palace sleepers, and thus ended a round of joy, keen wit, and humor. Strong resentment against the conduct of Filipino scouts had been expressed in different quarters of the “Fair,” and trouble between these and the white soldiers had been narrowly averted a number of times. The flirtations between white women of apparent respectability and the islanders had created adverse criticism. The marines, goaded by these flirtations and seeing fashionably gowned women on the arms of Filipinos promenading the Pike, felt that it was more than they could stand. In consequence a plan of campaign was outlined. One of the officers said, “I foresaw this situation and gave warning that it would come about. It is amazing the way white women shower attentions on the scouts, parading them to their homes and all that sort of thing.”