"Y-a-as, here they come; and I flitted my red handkercher like it was a 'Pache's head-dress, leadin' 'em on to where Percy was. I got there first and crawled into a cave where I could watch. I looked at Percy, sleeping, remarkin' 'whooo-whisssh!' at regular intervals, his little baby face surrounded by his white handkercher, his little fat hands folded on his little fat stomach, and I could scarcely wait for the time when them soldiers' eyes should fall upon their treacherous, fierce, and implackibble foe. "The lieutenant was a kid, just gradooated--one of the kind that thinks it's glorious to get killed and read about it in the papers. He led his men into the simple quiet of our camp, crouched and tur'ble, a gun in each hand . . . and there was the United States army and there was the sleepin' Percy, face to face! "'What . . . !' says the lieutenant, falling back ten foot. 'What . . . !' says he, falling back twenty feet and losin' his voice. 'What . . . !'says he, gatherin'himself; 'what is this? "And then I come out of the cave and rolled on the ground. "The lieutenant walked over and patted me on the back with a rifle-butt. "'What d'ye mean, you s-c-c-coundrel!' he says. 'Stop that laughing or I'll shoot the pair of you!' "I come to quick when I heard that. 'Look a' here, young feller,' I says, 'you can beat me as much as you feel like, but if you make a crooked play at Percy I'll wrap you up in your diploma and send you home to your ma.' "It just happened their half-breed scout knew me. "'I wouldn't rile Mr. Scraggs, Lieutenant,' says he; 'it's bad luck.' "Of course there was more talk, but the lieutenant was a good enough kid, and when he see all the boys laughin' he give in and smiled himself. "'Well, you long-legged statue of melancholy,' says he, 'I suppose I'll have to let it go, but I'll shoot you, sure as there is shootin', if you ever play a trick like that on me again. What kind of a fool are you to stay here in the middle of an outbreak, anyhow? Now wake up your friend and come with us.' "'Thanky,' says I; 'but hold--is the road safe to town?' '"Sure; we've cleaned 'em, all but one bunch.' "'Well,' says I, 'then Percy and me'll just amble back together the way we come. I don't want him to know nothing about any trouble.' "After chewin' for a while he consented, and away went the army. "So bimeby Percy woke up and said he'd had a nice nap and felt refreshed and--um--invigorated, and him and me went back to town, and he never suspicioned ther'd been an Injun risin', soldiers nor nothin'. I have felt like offering one hundred dollars' reward to the person who'd produce something that Percy would suspect. And whenever I think of that my spirits lift to that extent I could almost go out and get married again.