When I got over to Philadelphia, where I had some old railroad friends, upon whom I called for passes home, I was also quite a big fellow among my former railroad associates, and the passes were furnished without a question as to my claims or rights. Fortunately, I survived it all.
I reckon I should have first reported to the War Department, at Washington, but at that particular time I was much more concerned about what No. 1 would think of it all, than I was for the opinion of the War Department, so I first reported to her, and the first words I heard were:
"Why, I thought you were hung!"
What a deadener that was! The word hung fell from her lips into my heart like the dull, sickening thud of the dropping victim from the scaffold. But this isn't to be a love story, so I must pass over some of the most interesting little events in the career I am trying to describe, although they supply the motive for many of the acts and incidents which to all my friends seemed queer.
CHAPTER VII.
REPORTING TO THE SECRETARY OF WAR, AT WASHINGTON—ORDERED ON ANOTHER SCOUT TO VIRGINIA—IN PATTERSON'S ARMY, IN VIRGINIA, BEFORE THE BATTLE OF BULL RUN.
I was having such a pleasant time at my home and among my young friends, that I took no thought of reporting to the officials of the War Department, at Washington. One day we were advised by the papers that Senator Andy Johnson, the famous Unionist of Tennessee, would pass through our town on his way to the Capital. This was about the time of the outbreak of the reign of terror in East Tennessee, and the sturdy Senator, with many others of the same fearless build, had been forced to flee for his life. But while he was a hunted fugitive when south of the Ohio River, his progress through the loyal States to Washington was a right royal one.
As will be recalled, Mr. Johnson had been my first friend in Washington, and it was through my association with himself and Mr. Covode that I had entered the service.
When the train rolled up to the station, I was the first to board the car, and, in my rather boyish way, pushed unceremoniously through the crowd to where the Senator was holding an impromptu reception. He greeted me very kindly by a hearty shake, as he bade me sit down by him, and as soon as he found an opportunity, in his half-laughing, fatherly way, began to catechize the boy.