We had proceeded but a short distance through a narrow and
rugged roadway when we were overtaken by the military expressman whom
we had left at Fort Whipple. He had come from Prescott to Skull Valley
by a short cut.
"I have a letter for you, lieutenant," said he, approaching the
ambulance.
Unfastening the mail-pouch, he turned its contents upon the back seat.
A heap of loose letters and three well-worn books strewed themselves
over the cushion. Frank picked up the books and examined their titles.
"Xenophon's _Memorabilia_, Euripides' _Alcestis_ and _Medea_, and a
Greek grammar!" exclaimed the astonished youngster. "What are you
doing with these college text-books on the La Paz trail?"
"Making up conditions," replied the courier, a blush deepening the
brown of his face.
"What are conditions?" asked Henry.
"Oh, blissful ignorance! Why was I not spared the task of enlightening
it?" answered the courier. "Conditions are stumbling-blocks placed in
the way of successful trackmen, football players, and rowing men by
non-appreciative and envious professors.
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