“They left their papas and mammas, too,” Thaine philosophized.
The men laughed, although each felt a curious deep pain at the boy’s words.
Thaine settled back, satisfied to be silent as he watched the wonderful prairie landscape about him.
“I am going down to Shirley’s,” Carey began, as if to change the subject. “Strange fellow, Jim; I never knew another like him.” 145
“I was just thinking of Shirley,” Asher responded. “He is a royal neighbor and true friend, better to everybody else than he is to himself. His own crops suffer sometimes while he helps other folks lay theirs by. And yet his premises always look like he was expecting company. One cannot help wondering what purpose stays him in his work.”
“There is the tragedy of it,” Horace Carey declared. “I never knew a more affectionate man, yet he has lived a bachelor all these years.”
“How long have you known him, Carey?” Asher asked.
“Since the night at Kelley’s Ferry, back in the Civil War. Our regiment, the Fifty-fourth Virginia, was taken. We were worn out with fighting and marching, and we were nearly starved besides. The Third Ohio boys had been in the same fix once and our boys—”
“Yes, I was a Third Ohio boy. I know what you fellows did. You saved our lives,” Asher broke in.
“Well, you paid us back at Kelley’s Ferry. I first knew Jim Shirley that night, although he remembered me from the time we had your regiment at our mercy. He brought me bacon and hard tack and coffee. We have been friends ever since. How long have you known him?”