Doctor Carey unfolded the paper back of a magazine having a bit of prairie landscape for a cover design. In the distance, three headlands swam in the golden haze of a Kansas October sunset, and their long purple shadows fell wide across the brown prairie and fields of garnered harvests. Thaine studied it carefully, but offered no comment. "Doctor Carey, what brought you to the Philippines?" he asked suddenly. "To look after you," Carey replied frankly. "Me! Do I need it?" "You may. In that case I'll be first aid to the injured," Carey answered. "I'm to go with the 'Fighting Twentieth' when it starts out of these hog wallows toward the insurgents' capital. I must get back to Manila and pack for it. I have my orders to be ready in twenty-four hours." In twenty-four hours the "Fighting Twentieth" left its six-weeks' habitation in the trenches and began its campaign northward, and the young-hearted, white-haired physician with magnetic smile and skillful judgment found a work in army service so broad and useful that he loved it for its opportunity. Fortunately, Thaine had no need for "first aid" from Doctor Carey, and he saw the doctor only rarely in the sixty days that followed. When the two had time for each other again, Colonel Fred Funston's name had been written round the world in the annals of military achievement, the resourceful, courageous, beloved leader of a band of fighters from the Kansas prairies who were never defeated, never driven back, never daunted by circumstances. Great were the pen of that historian that could fittingly set forth all the deeds of daring and acts of humanity of every company under every brave captain, for they "all made history, and left records of unfading glory." The regiment had reached the Rio Grande, leaving no unconquered post behind it. Under fire, it had forded the Tulijan, shoulder-deep to the shorter men. Under fire, it had forged a way through Guiguinto and Malolos. Under fire, it had swam the Marilao and the Bagbag. And now, beyond Calumpit, the flower of Aguinaldo's army was massed under General Luna, north of the Rio Grande. A network of strong fortifications lay between it and the river, and it commanded all the wide water-front. As the soldiers waited orders on the south side of the river, Doctor Horace Carey left his work and sought out Thaine's company, impelled by the same instinct that once turned him from the old Sunflower Trail to find Virginia Aydelot lost on the solitary snow-covered prairie beyond Little Wolf Creek. "What's before you now?" the doctor asked, as he and Thaine sat on the ground together. "The Rio Grande now. We must be nearly to the end if we rout General Luna here," Thaine replied. "You've stood it well. I guess you don't need me after all," Carey remarked.