My partner and I saved our clothing, but deferred dressing until we were safely in our wagon with Charley Rogers urging his four horses to their utmost speed.
Hod Clair made a most comical figure on the horse, dressed in nothing but his cap, blouse and cuticle, and the officer’s sword dangling against his naked left leg.
A quarter of a century had elapsed after the disbandment of our regiment before I saw the comrade who rode with me from Bull Run. I sat writing at my desk one afternoon when I heard some one asking up in the front part of the store if “Del” was in.
The familiarity with which the questioner handled my name excited my curiosity and looking up I beheld two rather seedy looking individuals with hats in hand elbowing their way down through the store.
The one in advance was apparently a stranger. His companion, however, was a resident of the city, a veteran of my regiment, who bore the scars of battle on his body.
He returned home from the war to learn that while he was away fighting the battles of his country one of the stay-at-homes had been making love to his wife. She went west with her paramour, and the veteran laid down under the load and let the battle of life go against him. He was no common bum, however, if he did try at times to drown his misery in strong drink. He kept pretty clear of evil and low-down associations, even if he had dropped below the level of respectable people. The veteran was a man of intelligence and spent much time with good reading, and it was my pleasure for many years to keep him pretty well supplied. Strange to relate, a publication that was his especial favorite was the old “Christian Union,” now known as the “Outlook.” Of course he held me up now and then for the loan of a dime or quarter. If I hesitated about going into my pocket, he had a way of looking up and reminding me that it was “Just for old acquaintance sake.” Perhaps it would have been better to have refused him, but I had not the heart to say no to one who had blackened his coffee pail over the same campfire with me, had carried part of my traps on many weary marches and had touched elbows with my father on the fighting line. I cannot forget such things and would not if I could.