Trooper Tales — page 155: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

Back to San Anton’. 143 bines to the position of port arms, and stood five paces be- hind the prisoner. The corporal saluted the troop com- mander and said, “Forward, march.” The corporal’s voice was husky. He was not pleased with his task. Mulgowan seemed not to hear the command. It was repeated. “Wait a moment,” the prisoner said. He stepped over to the picket line, where Yellow Hair was tethered. The two talked together for a moment. The guards watched. Then Mulgowan was led away to court-martial. And the fancy little gelding, Yellow Hair, whinnied often in the days that followed and pawed the turf. Eomichdooks-co