"Get discharged! Why that's easy enough, I can get one for you."
"Can you? What'll you take to get it?"
"What'll I take? Why nothing. You go and get a pass for us to go down town and I'll go to the medical director of the Post and soon fix you out all right."
Away went the ex-patriot and soon returned with a pass and off they went to call on the medical director. Going along the street says John to his companion:
"Say, Ide! got any money?"
"Yes, a little."
John called a halt. "Well now, old fellow, I'll tell you, if I had a little whisky I could talk a heap better to the doctor, you know, but I hain't got a cent of money to buy any."
"Oh, if that's all," says Ide, thinking a discharge from the army for a drink of whiskey a good enough bargain for him, "I've got money enough to buy the whisky, where'll we get it?"
"I know, follow me," replied John, and he led him to a place where liquor could be obtained on the sly, for it was against positive orders for the citizens to sell any thing of the sort to a soldier, and Louisville was then under martial law. Into this place they went, and John having received the magic elixir, which was to open his mouth, and loosen his tongue, was again ready to accompany his friend to the doctor. But it was quite a distance from camp to the Director's office, and before it was reached Ide had been obliged to replenish John's stomach with whisky more than once. But at last they arrived at the place.
"Now Ide you stay down here until I go up stairs, I won't be gone long and when I come back I'll have your discharge."