wasn't any use. I couldn't stir
for the misery.

"'You're my prisoner,' he says again, louder'n before.

"'All right,' says I, 'I'm willing,' seeing there wasn't anything else
to say, and putting a free and easy face on it.

"'Get up, then, and come along with me,' says he. I pointed to my leg,
and tried to grin. He saw the curious way it was lying--all twisted
up--and the big red splotch on my trousers, and says, as if imparting
information, 'You're hurt, man, badly hurt. Keep perfectly still,' which
seemed to be unnecessary, as that was the onliest thing I could do
anyhow. 'I'll get you out of this. Now, brace up,' and he knelt down,
and held out his canteen. I tried to take it, but the effort was too
much for me. 'Poor chap, he's gone,' I heard him say, and then I faded
away. When I came to--a minute later it seemed to me--I was in a Yankee
hospital; a big tent full of men groaning and dying, and doctors running
this way and that with bottles, and bandages, and knives; and the
cussing, and the screaming, and the smells! It makes me sick to think of
it, even now. It was hell! I know you don't want to hear about the time
I spent there, and in another place like it, tossing and groaning
through the long days and nights; and when I got nearly well again,
about my life in prison, and my parole. Nathan fixed that, and I walked
out a free man, limping a little, just as I've done ever since. Nathan
hadn't forgotten the Reb he had taken prisoner, and when I went back to
Pine Bluff, poorer'n a rat, and no prospects to speak of, he gave me my
start in life. He sent me with a letter to his folks in Illinois, and
when I got there they gave me work to do, and treated me like one of
their own. They certainly were white to me. When Nathan came home after
the war, he cal'lated that Illinois was too far east for him, so after a
few years we packed up our duds, and 'migrated out to Montana. There
we've been ever since. That's my story, and it ain't a very startling
one after all, is it?"

"And it is true--every word of it," said Senator Bull warmly. "Sammy has
stuck by me through thick and thin. I don't believe I could have made
out without him. As a mine boss, store keeper, deputy sheriff, and
Indian fighter, we swear by him out our way. There is a fellow,
gentlemen, who calls a spade a spade, and oftener than not a _damned_
spade!"

"Don't take my character away, Nathan," expostulated Mr. Ridley humbly;
"give me a show. I'm an