"I want a man who is not afraid to take his life in his hand for the saving of his country."
"There is John Jordan from the head of Blaine," was the reply, "I think we could rely upon him."
Jordan was immediately sent for, and, notwithstanding his uncanny appearance, Garfield was at once prepossessed in his favor. He was tall and lank, with hollow cheeks and a curious squeaking voice. Born and bred among the Kentucky hills, he was rough and untutored, but his clear, gray eyes showed an unflinching courage and a downright honesty, that Garfield read with unerring intuition.
"Are you willing to risk your life for the country?" he asked.
"Oh, yes, sir!" was the ready response. "When I volunteered, I gave up my life for jest what it was wuth. If the Lord sees fit to make use of it now, I'm willin' He should take it."
"Do you mean you have come into the war not expecting to get out of it?"
"Yes, gin'ral, that's how I meant it."
"And are you willing to die rather than give up this despatch?"
"That's the gospel truth, gin'ral."
"Well, then, I think I can trust it with you."