assistance as I could
reasonably give. It happened to be at the time when General Sterling
Price, in making his last raid into Missouri, was threatening St.
Louis with an army of nearly twenty thousand men, and there was no
adequate opposing force at hand. Ewing, with barely a tenth as many
troops, went to the front and heroically engaged the enemy. With no
protection but the walls of a little mud fort he succeeded in
repelling the attack of his powerful adversary. That timely action
probably saved St. Louis.

At this particular time it was arranged that there should be a meeting
of the Republicans of St. Louis--it was in the midst of an exciting
presidential campaign--at which Lane was to be the principal speaker.
The meeting was held and Lane was addressing a large audience with
great acceptance when the news of Ewing's achievement was received.

It was then customary, when war intelligence arrived in the course of
any political gathering, and sometimes of religious gatherings, to
suspend all other proceedings until it had been announced and the
audience had time enough to manifest its feeling on the subject.

Lane was in the midst of an eloquent passage when he was interrupted
by the arrival of the news referred to. He stepped back, and the
news-bearer, taking his place, proceeded to give a graphic
description of Ewing's performance, concluding with a glowing eulogy
on that personage, and which was received with tremendous cheering.
Understanding Lane's feelings towards Ewing, I watched his face while
these events were passing. It plainly showed his vexation. It was
almost livid with suppressed emotion. But the time for him to resume
his address had come. What would he do was the question I asked
myself. He answered it very promptly. Jauntily stepping forward with
his countenance fairly wreathed in smiles, he exclaimed, "Ladies and
gentlemen, that is glo-o-orious news for us, but it 's ter-r-r-ible
for the other fellows."

Lane's enemies were confident they had him beaten as a candidate for
the Senate. He had done certain things that rendered him unpopular
with his constituents. So certain were they that they did not think it
necessary to make an effort, and, in consequence, remained inactive.
Not so with Lane. He quietly waited until a few days before the
choosing of the Legislature that was to decide on his case, and then
he entered on a lightning canvass. Arranging for relays of fast
horses--it was before the