General Nelson's Scout

by Byron A. Dunn

Fred raised his Head, "Ferror! Ferror!" he cried.

The boy opened his eyes and smiled. "It's all right, Fred—all right," he gasped. "That was no murder—that was a fair fight, wasn't it?"

"Oh, Ferror! Ferror!" moaned Fred. "You must not die."

"It is better as it is, Fred. I will not have that to think of."

He closed his eyes, and when he opened them again it was with a far-away look. He tried to raise himself. "Yes, mother," he whispered, and then his eyes closed forever.

The clatter of horses' hoofs, and the clang of sabers were now heard. Fred looked up; a party of Federal cavalry was bearing down upon him. They looked on the bloody scene in astonishment. A dashing young captain rode up. Fred pointed to young Ferror's lifeless body, and said: "Bring his body back to Piketon with you. He gave his life for me. I am one of General Nelson's scouts."

Then everything grew black before him, and he knew no more. He had fainted from the loss of blood.

The rough troopers bound up his arm, staunched the flow of blood, and soon Fred was able to ride to Piketon. General Nelson received him with astonishment; yet he would not let him talk, but at once ordered him to the hospital. As for Robert Ferror, he was given a soldier's burial.