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Updated: May 6, 2025
Ridge Norris, for instance, found a livid welt across his chest, looking as though traced by a live coal, and marking the course of a bullet that, with a hair's deflection, would have ended his life, while Rollo Van Kyp's hat seemed to have been an especial target for Spanish rifles.
About eight o'clock the next morning, as Ridge, waited on by the attentive Robert, was sitting down to the daintily appointed breakfast-table of Rollo Van Kyp's car, the young owner himself burst into the room. "Hello, Norris!" he cried. "Just going to have lunch? Don't care if I join you. Had breakfast hours ago, you know, and a prime one it was.
Van Kyp's horse, and got thrown," replied Ridge, as gravely as possible, but with an irrepressible smile lurking in the corners of his mouth. The bronco-buster, noting this, became instantly filled with wrath. "Got thrown, did I? And you think it a thing to laugh at, do you? Well, you wouldn't if you'd been in my place. I claim to know something about hosses, and I tell you that's not one at all.
As Ridge was rowed ashore he directed Ensign Comly's attention to a large steam-yacht painted lead-color in imitation of the war-ships, but flying a Red Cross flag, that had evidently just arrived. "She looks a little like Rollo Van Kyp's Royal Flush," he said; "but what is her name? G-r-a-y Gray man? Gray mare? Oh no, Gray Nun. Queer name for a yacht, isn't it?"
As it happened, this honor fell to Ridge Norris, and a few minutes later he passed out of the building an enlisted soldier of the United States, a private in its first regiment of volunteer cavalry, and ordered to report to the first sergeant of Troop "K" Rollo Van Kyp's troop, he remembered with pleasure. "Poor old boy! how I wish I could see him and tell him of my good luck!" he reflected.
A throng of these gathered about the camp-fire of Rollo Van Kyp's mess, and, unmindful of the showers that fell at short intervals, listened for hours with breathless interest and undisguised envy to the story of his recent adventures.
Thus it happened that kindly Fate had interposed to guide our hero's footsteps, but it was not until he found himself seated in the luxurious smoking-room of Rollo Van Kyp's private railway carriage that it occurred to him to inquire whither they were bound.
"Rollo Van Kyp's own boat!" cried Ridge. "You don't mean it?" "I do." And then Ridge told all that he knew of his friend's splendid contribution to the service that was doing more than the government itself towards alleviating the sufferings of the American troops before Santiago. When he finished, he said, "Of course the skipper recognized Van Kyp?"
In another minute Mr. Norris, seeming to bring with him a breath of bracing northern air, stood beside his son's cot. "I thank God and you, Spence Cuthbert, that my boy is still alive!" he cried. "And now, how soon can we take him north? I have Van Kyp's yacht waiting out here in the harbor, and we can start at a moment's notice."
"Thank God, my dear fellow, that you are alive!" exclaimed the Colonel, grasping Van Kyp's hand. Then, in a lower tone, he added, "We had to leave poor Norris behind. He was too ill to be brought on a transport, but he may come at any time on a hospital-ship. Here is a note for his family from one of the hospital nurses. My dear madam," he added, turning to Mrs.
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