that I stood ready to ram the lie down their throats with a pistol point.
Quantrell laughed, and chided me about letting my hot blood get the better
of cold judgment. I insisted, however, and told him further that Elkins'
father and brother were Southern soldiers, and that Steve was a
non-combatant, staying at home to care for his mother, but that I was in
no sense a non-combatant, and would stand as his champion in any fight.

Quantrell finally looked at his watch, and then remarked: "I will be on
the move in fifteen minutes. I will release Elkins, since you seem so
excited about it, and will leave him in your hands. Be careful, for
Parker's men are rather bitter against him."

Happy at heart, I dashed away to see Elkins, with whom I had only passed a
few words and a hand-shake to cheer him up. He knew me, however, and
realized that I would save him or die in the attempt, for from a boy it
was my reputation that I never deserted a friend.

When I joined him again, several of Parker's men were standing around in
the crowd, and as I shook hands with Elkins and told him of his freedom, I
added, "If any damned hound makes further false charges against you, it's
me he's got to settle with, and that at the pistol point."

I made that talk as a sort of bluff, for a bluff is often as good as a
fight if it's properly backed up. As Quantrell and his men rode away in
the direction of Dave Daily's neighborhood, I told Elkins to hit out West
until he came to the Kansas City and Harrisonville road, and then, under
cover of night, he could go either way. I shook his hand goodbye, slapped
him on the shoulder, and have never seen him since.

I followed Quantrell's men for half a mile, fearing that some stragglers
might return to take a quiet shot at Elkins, and then stopped for
something to eat, and fed our horses.

At the time that I defended Elkins before Quantrell, I knew that Steve's
sympathies were with the North, and had heard that he had joined the
Federal army. But it mattered nothing to me--he was my friend.

10. A PRICE ON MY HEAD

When Col. Hays went south in the fall to join Shelby, Capt. Jarrette went
with as many of his company as were able to travel and the wounded were
left with me in Jackson county.

Missouri militia recognized no red cross, and we were unable for that
reason to shelter our men in farm-houses, but built dug-outs in the hills,
the roofs covered with earth for concealment.

A