In San Francisco, April 19, Lieut. Charles C. Pulis, Commander of the Twenty-fourth Company of Light Artillery, was killed by the explosion of a charge of dynamite while engaged in fighting the fire. The charge of dynamite set to destroy a building did not explode as soon as was expected. Lieutenant Pulis went into the building to relight the fuse, and the charge exploded while he was there.

Mr. Pulis was a keen sportsman, and when in the Philippines used to go out after ducks and snipe whenever there was a lull in the movements of natives. The following tribute is paid him by his commanding officer in the Philippines, and gives a good idea of the nature of the man. We believe the writer to be Capt. Luther S. Kelly, better known to the older generation of our readers as "Yellowstone Kelly."

The letter appears in the Times of Los Angeles, Cal., and is dated San Carlos, April 22:

"In the loss of Lieut. Charles C. Pulis, Commander of the Twenty-fourth Company of Light Artillery, who was blown up by a charge of dynamite recently in San Francisco, the army has suffered a severe blow.

"Lieut. Pulis was an ideal soldier. He served in the Second Nebraska Regiment in 1898, and in 1899 was appointed First Lieutenant in the Fortieth Volunteer Infantry, being later assigned to Company A, which I had the honor to command in the Philippines.

"Pulis was a bright, brave and capable officer, not reckless but impulsive and daring, and when our battalion adjutant was killed in the fight at Libmanan, in the Camarines, Pulis was assigned to the place much to my regret; but I was always fortunate in my officers and soon made good the deficiency.

"When our regiment landed in the Philippines, in 1899, we were stationed for awhile not far from Manila, in order to get a little field service experience to fit us for campaigning.

"Our battalion was stationed in the convent at San Felipe, right across from the Santa Mesa Hospital, and our outposts extended about a mile out to the north. We relieved Maj. John Parker's ('Gatling Gun' Parker) battalion there.

"One night, my company being on outpost duty, I followed the usual custom of visiting the outposts at midnight, which involved a lonely tramp along a rock-bound road deeply cut with ruts made by the native carts that had traversed it probablv for hundreds of years.

"Arriving at the outermost post the soldiers called my attention to a brightly illuminated tree a few hundred yards in advance, and stated that he was positive that he saw people moving about it. I told him that it was only fire-flies, but I would go down to investigate. While standing under the tree and contemplating the beauty of the tropical night, and musing on the ease with which soldiers at times will work up a little excitement, Lieutenant Pulis, who it appeared was making the rounds of the outposts also, approached the tree with a view of investigating the light and reassuring the soldiers, and, seeing a stranger standing motionless where no stranger should be. rushed up with cocked revolver, and, presenting it to my breast, exclaimed: 'What are you doing here?' In almost the same moment recognizing me, he was very much put out.

"But it shows the impulsive nature of the man that finding himself suddenly in the presence of the supposed enemy, he should rush singlehanded to the encounter.

"It is my keen regret that such a promising officer should be lost to the service.