"Wal, just arter the battle o' Monterey, our company war cut up into little squads, an' scattered all over the country; some went with the gen'ral, an' some war put in Cap'n Morgan's company, an' sent scoutin' around, an' four of us war left at Monterey with the quarter-master.
"'Dick, the kurnel wants to see you. I guess he's got some business for you to 'tend to.'
"I went up to the head-quarters, an' the kurnel told me that he had some very important letters which he wanted to send to Major Davis, who was then stationed at a little town called Alamo, an' as I had the finest hoss in the town, he thought it best to send me. Alamo war on the other side o' the mountains, an' about a hundred an' fifty miles off. As the kurnel had said, I had the best hoss in the hull camp, an', in course, it wouldn't have been no trouble to have gone there if the country had been clear--the ride wasn't nothin'; but the Mexikins war comin' down toward Monterey, an' the kurnel thought that they war goin' to try to take the city from us agin. I knowed there war danger in it, but I didn't mind that. I war used to it, an' if I got into a scrape, it wouldn't be the first one I war in; so I started off arter my hoss, an' in a few minits I war ready an' waitin' at the kurnel's door for the letters. Purty soon he come out an' give 'em to me, sayin':
"'Now, Dick, be mighty keerful of 'em, 'cause there's some news in 'em that I shouldn't like to have the Mexikins get hold of. This man,' pintin' to a Greaser that stood a little behind me, holdin' his hoss, 'will be your guide. He knows all about the mountains.' Then, movin' up a little closer to me, he whispered: 'He'll bear watchin', I think; I don't know much about him, but he is the only man I have got to send with you, an' them letters must be in Major Davis's hands by to-morrow night.'
"'All right, kurnel,' I answered; 'I'll look out for him. I never see a Greaser yet that could pull the wool over my eyes. I'll give the letters to Major Davis afore this time to-morrow. Good by.' An' me an' the guide rid off.
"As soon as I had got out of the city, I turned to have a look at my guide, an' I thought, as the kurnel had said, that he would bear watchin'. He war the most villainous lookin' Mexikin I ever sot eyes on. He war a young feller, not more'n twenty-two or twenty-three year old; but he had an eye that looked like an eagle's, an' it wasn't still a minit. He war dressed in a reg'lar Greaser's rig, with a slouch hat, short jacket, all covered with gold lace, an' pantaloons, wide at the bottom, an' open on the side as far as his knees. He had a splendid hoss, an' war armed with a carbine, short saber, an' a lasso; an' I knowed that if me an' him got into a muss, that lasso would bother me more'n his sword or shootin'-iron. The Greasers, as a gen'ral thing, ain't no great shakes at shootin', an' in a rough-an'-tumble fight they ain't nowhere; but them ar raw-hide lassoes ar the meanest things in the world to fight; they'll have one of 'em around your neck afore you know it. I had a little experience in that line afore I got back. Arter we had got outside o' the pickets a little way, he turned in his saddle, an' tried to commence a talk with me in Spanish; but I made him believe that I couldn't understand a word he said. I thought that if I should tell him that I couldn't talk his lingo, it would make him a little keerless; an' so it did.