, but Colonel Morrison says that
Balderson soon took on the title of governor, and was unruffled by his
defeat. The Colonel describes Balderson as assuming the air of a kind of
sacred white cow, and putting much hair-oil and ointment and
frankincense upon his carcass. Other old settlers say that in those days
his dyed whiskers fairly glistened. And when, at State conventions, in
the fervour of his passion he unbent, unbuttoned his frock-coat, grabbed
the old flag, and charged up and down the platform in an oratorical
frensy, it seemed that another being had emerged from the greasy little
roll of adipose in which "Governor" Balderson enshrined himself. His
climax was invariably the wavering battle-line upon the mountain, the
flag tottering and about to fall, "when suddenly it rises and goes
forward, up--up--up the hill, through the smoke of hell, and full and
fair into the teeth of death, with ten thousand cheering, maddened
soldiers behind it. And who carried that flag--who carried that flag?"
he would scream, in a tremulous voice, repeating his question over and
over, and then answer himself in tragic bass: "The little corporal of
Company B!" And, "Who fell into the arms of victory that great day, with
four wounds upon his body? The little corporal of Company B!" It is
hardly necessary to add that Governor Balderson was the little corporal.

After the failure of his bank, when rumour accused him of burning the
court-house that he might sell his abstracts to the county at a fabulous
price, he called a public meeting to hear his defence, and repeated to
his townsmen that query, "Who carried the flag?" adding in a hoarse
whisper: "And yet--great God!--they say that the little corporal is an
in-cen-di-ary. Was this great war fought in vain, that tr-e-e-sin should
lift her hydra head to hiss out such blasphemy upon the boys who wore
the blue?"

However, the evidence was against him, and as our people had long since
lost interest in the flag-bearer, the committee gave him five minutes to
leave. He returned three minutes in change and struck out over the hill
towards the west, afoot, and the town knew him no more forever.

Where Balderson went after leaving town no one seems to know. The earth
might have swallowed him up. But in 1882 someone sent a marked copy of
the _Denver Tribune_ to the _Statesman_ office, the _Statesman_
reprinted it, and "Aunt" Martha filed it away in her book. Here is it:

"Big Burro Springs, Colora