“This hay may have some bugs in it but they won’t tickle so bad as those in the tavern,” Abe laughed.

Then Harry remarked:  “There was lots of bad company in that tavern.  The towel that hung over the washstand was as black as the ground.”

“It reminded me of the tavern down in Pope County,” Abe yawned.  “A traveler found fault with the condition of its one towel and the landlord said:  ’Go to h—­ll, stranger.  More than fifty men have used that towl to-day an’ you’re the first one that’s complained of it.’”

Samson had that gift of “sleeping with one eye open” which the perils of the wilderness had conferred upon the pioneer.  He had lain down on the side of their bed near the horses, which, were tethered to trees only a few feet away.  He had gone to sleep with his pistol under his right hand.  Since the beginning of that long journey overland from Vermont Samson had been wont to say that his right hand never slept.  Late in the night ha was awakened by an unusual movement among the horses.  In the dim light of the fire he could see a man in the act of bridling Abe’s horse.

“Hold up your hands,” Samson shouted as he covered the man with his pistol.  “If ye stir a foot I’ll bore a hole in ye.”

The man threw up his hands and stood still.

In half a moment Abe Lincoln and Harry had got up and captured the man and the loosed horse.

This is part of the entry which Samson made in his diary a week or so later: 

* * * * *

“Harry put some wood on the fire while Abe and I led him up into the light.  He was one of the dirty white men we had seen at the tavern.

“‘I’ll give ye four hundred dollars for a hogs in good Michigan money,’ he said.

“‘If ye can’t steal a horse you’re willin’ to buy one,’ I says.

“‘No, sir.  I only come to buy,’ says he.

“I flopped him sudden and asked him why he was putting on the bridle.

“He owned up then.  Said a man had hired him to steal the horse.

“‘That man has got to have a hoss,’ he said.  ’He’ll give ye any price ye want to ask.  If you’ll give me a few dollars I’ll take ye to him.’

“‘You go and bring him here and I’ll talk to him,’ I said.

“I let the feller go.  I didn’t suppose he’d come back but he did.  Came a little before sunrise with that well dressed feller we saw at the tavern.

“‘Do you want to buy a horse?’ I says.

“‘Yes, sir, I’ve got to get to Chicago to-day if possible.’

“‘What’s your hurry?’

“‘I have engagements to-morrow and land to sell.’

“‘How did ye get here?’

“‘Came up from Tazewell County to-day on a horse.  It died last evening.’

“‘What’s your name?’ I says.

“He handed me a card on which I read the words ’Lionel Davis, Real Estate, Loans and Insurance, 14 South Water Street, Chicago, Ill.’