The Adventures of Two Alabama Boys

by H. J. Crumpton; Washington Bryan Crumpton

I STARTED OUT AFOOT DOWN THE RAILROAD.

Fifteen miles below was the town of Calumet, now a part of the city; I reached there about the middle of the afternoon, and went into the eating house by the railroad. There was a large number of men gathered around the stove, talking about the war. About six o'clock they broke up and went to their homes for supper, and I was left alone with the proprietor, who was also the railroad agent.

I had made it up with my friends at Camp Douglass, if I should be captured I would claim my name was Hardy, one of their comrades, who had been left somewhere, and they would recognize me as Hardy. In that way, later on, I would be exchanged and get through. It was a poor put up story, but that was the understanding, so I did not expect to be Crumpton any more.

The proprietor said: "You seem to be traveling." I said "yes." "Afoot?" "Yes." "Where are you from?" "Beloit, Wisconsin." "What is your name?" I said "Crumpton." Immediately he took my breath by saying: "You are lately from California, aren't you?"