to the Mississippi. We were told at Nashville that we would spill
out on the rapids, that river pirates would rob us, and that the
big boats would run us down or tip us over, but we never had any
trouble at all. We'll know better than to listen to such talk when
we set afloat on the Rio Grande this spring."

"It was better than walking," said Frank.

"Frank was frisky as a young colt all the way down," Fremont added.
"There are little trading places all along the river banks, kept
mostly by farmers. When you want to buy anything you ring a bell
left in view for that purpose, and the proprietor comes out of the
field and waits on you. Frank wanted a record of being the prize
bell-ringer, and once he got to the boat just a quarter of an inch
ahead of a bulldog with red eyes and bowlegs.

"He holds the world's record for speed," Fremont continued, with a
friendly glance at Frank. "The faster he runs the whiter he gets,
through fear, and he left white streaks behind him all along the
Cumberland river. Now, how many of you boys are ready for a trip
down the Rio Grande, and, possibly, over into Mexico?"

Every boy in the room shouted approval of the plan, and Frank said
he would go as war correspondent.

"It will be exciting, with the soldiers on the border," Frank said,
"and I may make a hit as special news writer."

All was now excitement in the room, the story of the trip down to
the Mississippi having stirred the lads' love of out-of-door adventure