Waterbury Democrat., 1901-04-11


 of work and no time for social dis traction. Appointed to the staff of Gen. Vinton, with orders to sail with out delay for Manila, the young off cer found his hours from morn till late at night almost too short for the duties demanded of him.
 The transports were almost ready. The troops had been designated for the expedition. The supplies were being hurried aboard. The general had his men all the liyelong day at the rifle-ranges or drill-grounds, for most of the brigade were raw volun- teers who had been rushed to the point of rendezvous with scant equip ment and with less instruction. The camps were thronged with men in all manner of motley as to dress and no little variety as to dialect. Few of the newly appointed officers in the department of supply were versed in their duties, and the young regulars of the staff of the commanding gen. eral were working 16 hours out of the 24, coaching their comrades of the volunteers.
 1hC StlCCtS WCIS C4OWoCa VAeA citizens eager to welcome and ap- plaud the arriving troops. Hotels were thronged. Restaurants were doing thriving business, for the army ration did not too soon com mend itself in it's simplicity to the stomachs of some thousands of young fellows who had known better diet if not better days, many of their number having left luxurious homes and surroundings and easy salaries to shoulder a musket for three dol lars a week.
 Private soldiers in blue flannel shirts were learning to stand atten- tion and touch their caps to young men in shoulder-straps whom they had laughed at and called .'tin sol diers" year agone because they be- longed to the militia-a thing most of the gilded youth in many of our western cities seemed to scorn as be- meath them.
 In the wave of patriotic wrath and fervor that swept the land when the harbor, many and many youth who had sneered at the state guardsmen learned to wish that he too had given time and honest effort to the school of the soldier, for now, unless he had sufficient spull' to win for him a staff position, his only hope was in the ranks.
 And so, even in the recruit detach- ments of the regulars, were found scores of young men whose social status at home was on plane much higher than that of many of their of ficers. But the time had come when the long and patient effort of the once despised militiamen had won deserved recognition. The commis- sions in the newly raised regiments were held almost exclusively by off, cers who had won them through long service with the National guard.
 And in the midst of all the whirl of work in which he found himself, Lieut.. Stuyvesant had been sum- moned to the tent of Gen. Drayton, commanding the great encampment on the sand-lots south of the Presidio reservation, and bidden to tell what he knew of one Walter F. Foster, re- cruit -th cavalry, member of the de- tachment sent on via the Denver and Rio Grande to Ogden, then trans ferred to the Southern Pacific train No. en route to San Francisco, which detachment. was burned out of its car and the car out of it's train early on the morning of the of June, 1898, somewhere in the neigh borhood of station with the un- couth name of Beowawe in the heart Recruit Foster had totally disap- peared the following evening, having been last seen by his comrades as the train was ferried across Carquinez Straits, 30 miles from Oakland Pier, and later by railway hands at Port Costa on the back trip of the big boat to the Benicia side. J
 There was little Stuyvesant could tell. He hardly remembered the man except as Nfine-featured young fel- low who seemed shy, nervous and unstrung, something Stuyvesant had hitherto attributed to the startling and painful experience of the fire, and who, furthermore, seemed desir- ous of lodging the lieutenant, which circumstance Stuyvesant could not fathom at all, and if anything rather resented.
 He explained to the general that he was in no wise responsible for the care of the detachment. He had only casually met them at Ogden, and cir cumstances later had thrown him into closer relation.
 But the veteran general was de- sirous of further information. He sat at the pine table in his plainly furnished tent, looking thoughtful1y into the frank and handsome face of the young officer, his fingers beating tattoo on the tabletop. The gem erals eyes were somber, even sad at times. Beneath them lay lines of care and sorrow. His voice was low, his manner grave, courteous, even cold. He was studying his man and discussing in his mind how far he might confde in him.
 Obedient to the generals invita- ton, Stuyvesant had taken a chair close to the commanders table and sat in silence awaiting further oues- .z,-