"I got run out of New Mexico--or maybe I moved--anyhow, I come away, dragging my tracks out behind me, and I butted right into some cavalry. They was out trailing Injuns--a bunch of A-paches that had left the Reservation on a raid--and the lieutenant in command, seeing that my hair was kinder long, inquires if I could talk A-pache. Well, to tell you the truth now I couldn't speak a word of it, but in order to git my teeth into some of that Army grub I told him I could _habla_ it fine. He took me on as scout and Injun interpreter at five dollars a day and found; but at the end of two days we ran spang into them Injuns, and the lieut, he sent me out. "Well, I rode up on a hill where they could see me good and held up my hand for a talk, and when the old chief and a couple of bucks rode out I hollers: "Wahoo meshackatee!" "The old chief then, he r'ars back on his hanches and cuts loose with a bunch of A-pache; and finally the lieutenant, who was fresh from West Point, rides up and asks what he says. Well, it was up to me then to make good or bust; so, knowing the dirty dastards, I made a bold guess and by grab it turned out I was right. "'He says, sir,' I reports, 'that his men want to fight; but if you'll give him some grub, and some coffee and tobacco-smokum, they'll think about coming in.' "Well, we brought up the grub and the tobacco-smokum and when them bucks saw it they laid down their guns and come into camp on the lope. I was a hero, by crackey, until we got back to San Carlos and rustled up a real interpreter; but the colonel was so tickled that he kept me on the payroll, under the name of Wahoo Meshackatee. Never could speak the lingo but them A-paches all know me and we git along somehow, by signs; but say, where you going--on your way to join the Bassetts--or was you jest passing through?" "No, I was just passing through," answered Hall uneasily, "and by the way, who are these men, anyway? I'm a stranger in this country and I can't make out yet why they take so much interest in my business."