priation of $800,000. Within a month he was back with a request for $500,000 more.

"But where is the $800,000 you got?" he was asked.

"Burned," was the laconic reply.

And it was the burning of that powder, in part, that made Dewey's gunners invincible at Manila.

Roosevelt describes himself, during this time, as "sharpening the tools of the navy." When the task was accomplished to the satisfaction of every one concerned, he gave way to the desire which was overwhelming him. "There is nothing more for me to do here," he said. "I've got to get into the fight myself."

A furor arose. His friends tried to dissuade him, and all the leading newspapers of the country assured him that he was taking just the right course to ruin his career. They told him that there were plenty of men to stop bullets but very few who could manage a navy.

"You are leaving a wife and six children," said one of the female population, with tears in her eyes.

"I have done as much as any one to bring on this war," replied Roosevelt, "and shall I shirk now?"

His resignation was therefore tendered, and accepted with much regret by the President and Secretary Long. He was free to carry out the plan which had enlisted his interest so thoroughly.

American history was as familiar to Secretary Roosevelt as his a b c's. He knew all about Mad Anthony Wayne; the dramatic story of Marion's men in the American Revolution, and the part that the Texas Rangers played in the Mexican war. What Andy Jackson's soldiers did in the war of 1812 stirred his martial spirit, too, and from a knowledge of the deeds accomplished by all these commanders, he concluded that such service would be invaluable in the Spanish war.

Congress, agreeing with him, authorized the raising of three cavalry regiments from among the wild riders and riflemen of the Rockies and the great plains. Roosevelt was offered the command of one of them. His knowledge of military matters was established by practical experiment, for as far back as 1884 he had been a lieutenant of the Eighth regiment of the National Guard of the State of New York. He afterwards rose to the rank of captain, and remained a militiaman for more. than four years.

He felt that he could learn how to command a regiment in a month, but that the month at that time was of inestimable importance to the country. So he declined the commission of colonel.

"Later," he said, "after I have gained some experience, perhaps that may come." It did come, not a colonelcy only, but a recommendation also for the medal of honor for gallant conduct in action.

Roosevelt, therefore, was appointed lieutenant colonel of the regiment, and Dr. Leonard Wood its colonel. The two commanders were overwhelmed with applications from every state in the Union for membership in their regiment. They found that the difficulty lay not in selecting men, but in rejecting them. As far as numbers went, they could have raised a division as easily as a regiment.

Finally choice was made among all the candidates, whose great longing was to get to the front with this regiment into the thick of the fight. The result was a body of picked men so perfect in physique, health and courage that it would have been difficult to match them anywhere.

Perhaps no other regiment that ever existed held quite so many elements peaceably within its limits. The red Indian stood beside a college graduate, the cowboy outlaw made friends with the ex-policeman from New York; the son of a millionaire fraternized with the man who did not know where his next dime was coming from, and the minister shared his tent with the atheist.

As a demonstration of practical Americanism, this regiment was one of the most effective lessons which the country has had for many a long day. All distinctions of race, birth and circumstances were forgotten. The purpose of every man was to find his duty and to do it, whatever it might be.

The first camp of the Rough Riders during the period of organization and discipline was at San Antonio, Tex. There the regiment learned to pull together, to feel itself as a body and to test its strength. Soldier and officer went at their new tasks with a will, determined that by no fault of theirs should the regiment fall into disrepute. With this feeling predominant the task of bringing unity of action out of all the great variety of men gathered together was comparatively easy to accomplish.

Colonel Wood and Colonel Roosevelt had put in their requests early at the war office and had badgered the authorities so constantly that weapons and supplies were forthcoming just when they needed them. The last of the rifles had been received. The regiment had drilled so diligently that it was ready to do effective, intelligent service wherever it might be called.

Then the welcome order flashed over the telegraph wires: "Move to Tampa."

By this time the many different elements had shaken down together and the regiment had emerged from its preparatory stage as a corporate body. The reversal of positions was so complete that it seemed as if the whole scheme of social distinctions must have been shaken up in a

kaleidoscope. During the hot, dusty journey to Tampa, for instance, anyone with a sense of humor would have appreciated the sight of James Tailer and Robert Ferguson, two of the most fastidious members of the Knickerbocker Club of New York, serving canned corn beef, beans and hardtack, three times each day, to the hungry troopers.

Hamilton Fish, Jr., and William Tiffany, nephew of Mrs. August Belmont and a grand-nephew of Commodore Oliver H. Perry, the hero of the battle of Lake Erie, had charge of the freight cars containing the baled hay for the horses. They fought as well as they worked, for Hamilton Fish was the first Rough Rider killed by Spanish fire and William Tiffany lived only long enough after the war to reach American shores.

But though the regiment contained representatives of all classes of society, the bulk of it was made up of the fine sturdy men which our Western prairies hold in reserve. They came almost altogether from the four territories still remaining within the boundaries of the United States.

"They were a splendid set of men, these Southwesterners," writes their commander with just pride; "tall and sinewy, with resolute, weatherbeaten faces, and eyes that looked a man straight in the face without flinching. In all the world there could be no better material for soldiers than that afforded by these grim hunters of the mountains, these wild rough riders of the plains."

No small thing, perhaps, served to make the various men feel their brotherhood more than the Rough Riders' cry, combining war whoop, cattle call and college yell, which by some mysterious process of evolution came into being. When a thousand throats shouted it together no man could help feeling the pulse of the regiment beating in his brain. "Rough! tough! we're the stuff!

We're the scrappers; never get enough! W-h-o-o-e-e!"

Roosevelt opposed the name of "Rough Riders" at first. "The objection to that term," he said once, with a twinkle in his eye, "is that people who read the newspapers may get the impression that the regiment is to be a hippodrome affair." No one had this idea long. After the first fight of the Rough Riders their colonel's prediction was verified.

After four days on the cars the troops disembarked at Tampa in what their colonel calls a perfect "welter of confusion." The railroad company landed them wherever it could. No one was on hand to give them directions and no one to issue food for the first twenty-four hours. The commanders bought what they could for their men to eat and paid for it out of their own pockets, but even then the soldiers were without warm food or drink during all the first arduous stages of camp making.