Two ambulances were sent to the hotel for our party and Adjutant-General Ruggles,
who is here on a tour of inspection. "Mark" rose early and said he would walk to the fort slowly;
he thought it would do him good.
General Ruggles and the ladies went in one ambulance (the old four-mule army officers' ambulance)
and the other waited some little time before starting, that I might complete arrangements
for all the party to go direct from the fort to the depot.
I was the only passenger riding with the driver, and enjoying the memory of like experiences on
the plains when in the army. We were about half way to the fort when I discovered a man walking
hurriedly toward us quite a distance to the left.
I was sure it was "Mark," and asked the driver to slow up. In a minute I saw him signal us, and
I asked the driver to turn and drive toward him.
We were on a level plain, and through that clear mountain atmosphere one can see a great distance.
We were not long in reaching our man, much to his relief. He had walked out alone and
taken the wrong road, and after walking five or six miles on it, discovered his mistake,
and was countermarching when he saw our ambulance and ran across lots to meet us.
He was tired -- too tired to express disgust -- and sat quietly inside the ambulance until
we drove up to headquarters, where were a number of officers and ladies, besides our party.
As "Mark" stepped out, a colored sergeant laid hands on him, saying:
"Are you 'Mark Twain'?"
"I am," he replied.
"I have orders to arrest and take you to the guardhouse."
And the sergeant walked him across the parade ground to the guardhouse, he not uttering a word of protest.
Immediately Lieutenant-Colonel Burt and the ambulance hurried over to relieve the prisoner.
Colonel Burt very pleasantly asked "Mark's" pardon for the practical joke and invited him to ride back to headquarters. "Mark" said: