“Too bad!  Isn’t it?” said Sarah when Mrs. Waddell, who had come out with her husband one evening to bring this news, had finished the story.

“Yes, it kind o’ spyles the place,” said Samson.  “Bim was a wonderful girl—­spite of all her foolishness—­like the birds that sing among the flowers on the prairie—­kind o’—­yes, sir—­she was.  I’m afraid for Jack Kelso-’fraid it’ll bust his fiddle if it don’t break his heart.  His wife is alone now.  We must ask her to come and stay with us.”

“The Allens have taken her in,” said Mrs. Waddell.

“That’s good,” said Sarah.  “I’ll go down there to-morrow and offer to do anything we can.”

When Mr. and Mrs. Waddell had gone Sarah said: 

“I can’t help thinking of poor Harry.  He was terribly in love with her.”

“Well, he’ll have to get over it—­that’s all,” said Samson.  “He’s young and the wound will heal.”

It was well for Harry that he was out of the way of all this, and entered upon adventures which absorbed his thought.  As to what was passing with him we have conclusive evidence in two letters, one from Colonel Zachary Taylor in which he says: 

“Harry Needles is also recommended for the most intrepid conduct as a scout and for securing information of great value.  Compelled to abandon his wounded horse he swam a river under fire and under the observation of three of our officers, through whose help he got back to his command, bringing a bullet in his thigh.”

With no knowledge of military service and a company of untrained men, Abe had no chance to win laurels in the campaign.  His command did not get in touch with the enemy.  He had his hands full maintaining a decent regard for discipline among the raw frontiersmen of his company.

He saved the life of an innocent old Indian, with a passport from General Cass, who had fallen into their hands and whom, in their excitement and lust for action, they desired to hang.  This was the only incident of his term of service which gave him the least satisfaction.

Early in the campaign Harry had been sent with a message to headquarters, where he won the regard of Colonel Taylor and was ordered to the front with a company of scouts.  No member of the command had been so daring.  He had the recklessness of youth and its wayward indifferences to peril.  William Boone, a son of Daniel, used to speak of “the luck of that daredevil farmer boy.”

One day in passing mounted through a thick woods on the river, near the enemy, he suddenly discovered Indians all around him.  They sprang out of the bushes ahead and one of them opened fire.  He turned and spurred his horse and saw the painted warriors on every side.  He rode through them under a hot fire.  His horse fell wounded near the river shore and Harry took to the water and swam beneath it as far as he could.  When he came up for breath bullets began splashing and whizzing around him.  It was