The time came when everybody knew that the Fifth Army Corps was the corps designated for the first active service in Cuba. The officers and men of the 307th observed with despair that their regiment was not in the Fifth Army Corps. The colonel was a strategist. He understood everything in a flash. Without a moment's hesitation he obtained leave and mounted the night express for Washington. There he drove Senators and Congressmen in span, tandem and four-in-hand. With the telegraph he stirred so deeply the governor, the people and the newspapers of his State that whenever on a quiet night the President put his head out of the White House he could hear the distant vast commonwealth humming with indignation. And as it is well known that the Chief Executive listens to the voice of the people, the 307th was transferred to the Fifth Army Corps. It was sent at once to Tampa, where it was brigaded with two dusty regiments of regulars, who looked at it calmly, and said nothing. The brigade commander happened to be no less a person than Gates's old colonel in the "Sixteenth Cavalry"--as HARPER'S WEEKLY says--and Gates was cheered. The old man's rather solemn look brightened when he saw Gates in the 307th. There was a great deal of battering and pounding and banging for the 307th at Tampa, but the men stood it more in wonder than in anger. The two regular regiments carried them along when they could, and when they couldn't waited impatiently for them to come up. Undoubtedly the regulars wished the volunteers were in garrison at Sitka, but they said practically nothing. They minded their own regiments. The colonel was an invaluable man in a telegraph office. When came the scramble for transports the colonel retired to a telegraph office and talked so ably to Washington that the authorities pushed a number of corps aside and made way for the 307th, as if on it depended everything. The regiment got one of the best transports, and after a series of delays and some starts, and an equal number of returns, they finally sailed for Cuba. II Now Gates had a singular adventure on the second morning after his arrival at Atlanta to take his post as a major in the 307th. He was in his tent, writing, when suddenly the flap was flung away and a tall young private stepped inside. "Well, Maje," said the newcomer, genially, "how goes it?" The major's head flashed up, but he spoke without heat. "Come to attention and salute." "Huh!" said the private. "Come to attention and salute." The private looked at him in resentful amazement, and then inquired: "Ye ain't mad, are ye? Ain't nothin' to get huffy about, is there?" "I---- Come to attention and salute." "Well," drawled the private, as he stared, "seein' as ye are so darn perticular, I don't care if I do--if it'll make yer meals set on yer stomick any better." Drawing a long breath and grinning ironically, he lazily pulled his heels together and saluted with a flourish.