"So! Where was all this?"

"Down in a rice paddy; place called Baliancan."

"What regiment?"

"Third Cavalry."

The cashier's black eyes flashed, and he extended a cordial hand.

"Put her there, Amigo," he broke forth warmly. "Lord! but maybe I
don't remember! Say, but you fellows were a husky lot o' bucks. Knew
ye? I rather guess I did. I was bunkin' then with the First Nebraska.
Sure, I 'll stand ye for the meal. Put back yer plaything, and bring
in yer pardner--this spread is on the house. The Third Cavalry has
divided chuck with me mor'n once, an' I ain't goin' back on one of the
boys for the price of a meal."

Our hands met, clasped closely lying across the desk, our eyes glowing
with suddenly aroused memories of comradeship in a foreign land. Then
I repinned the medal to the front of my rough shirt, gulping a bit as I
strove to speak calmly.

"It's a woman," I explained, nodding toward the door. "I found her out
there hungry. Could we have that table yonder behind the screen?"

"Sure; and don't be afraid to order the best in the house. Damn me,
but that was some fight we had at Baliancan, even if the history folks
don't say much about it. I can see you Third Cavalry fellows goin' in