Tom Strong, Lincoln's Scout

ncoln-Tom Goes to Lincoln's Inauguration-S. F. B. Mor

nd had helped her fight her unjust war with Mexico. General Grant, who saw his first fighting in this war and who fough

ias Howe invented the sewing-machine. In 1847 Robert Hoe invented the rotary printin

cause of his memories of that old town in the days when he had followed Fremont. He went again to the Planters' Hotel and there by lucky accident he met again the famous frontiersman Kit Carson. Carson was away from the plains he loved because of a lawsuit. A sharp speculator was trying to take away from him some land he had bought years ago near the town, which the gro

ver to Springfield, Illinois, to get Abe. When I saw him I rather hesitated about hiring such a looking skeesicks, but when I came to talk with him, he

a bit,'

z I. 'I'll pay

ke your money, Kit, I've got to know yo

does that make t

got to prove your case to me before I'll try to prove it to the c

n the right, too, before he'd touch my mon

his young college-bred fellow from the East, unaffected, well-mannered, friendly, and gay. There was the beginning of a friendship between the Westerner and the Easterner. Thereafter th

untry, as its President, Mr. Strong went to Washington to see him inaugurated and took wi

t the polls. In both cases the West swamped Washington. But in 1829 there was jubilant victory in the air. In 1861 there was somber anxiety. Seven Southern States had "seceded" and had formed another government. Other

king hands with everybody in the long line. Almost every one of them seemed to be asking him for something. He was weary long before Tom and his father reached him, b

to see you. This yo

was glad to have this big man with a woman's smile call him anything. He wrung the President's

trong. You haven't a

Mr. President. I'm not h

Washington of that kind, I believe. Com

gladly

ard him begin to plead: "Say, Abe, you know I carried

ception, Charles A. Dana once put his little girl in a corner, whence she saw the show. The father tells the story. When the reception was over, he said to Lincoln: "'I have a little

topped desk, piled high with papers. He was in his shirt-sleeves, with shabby black trousers, coarse stockings, and

you. I want you to go straight home and fix up your business

s,

itizen was about to go when Tom, with his heart in his mo

! Oh, Mr. P

incoln stooped down to him, patted his young h

it, Tom?

do something for my country, right now? Can't I

boy's face fell. It brightene

our father, I'll s

otable dinner in it to a notable man. Tom had been present at the dinner, and he remembered nothing about it. As he was at the table but a few minutes, in the arms of his nurse, and less than a year old, it is not surprising that he did not remember it. His proud young mother had exhibited him to a group of money magnates, gathered

tgomery, the first Confederate capital, said: "It is time to sprinkle some blood in the face of the people." So he telegraphed the fateful order to fire on Fort Sumter, held by United States troops in Charleston harbo

in his mail one

ecutive

n, April

i

d like to have you come to Washington

ectf

n H

Private

he cars were crammed with soldiers. A sentry stood at every door. No civilian need apply for passage. However, a civilian with a letter from Lincoln's secretary bidding him also hurry to Washington was in a class by himself. With the help of an officer, the father and son ran the blockade of bayonets and st

youngest rec

going to shoot r

reaking the silence the question broug

in three months," Go

sorry for that," said Jim Casey, "

Civil War was in the streets of Baltimore on April 19, 1861, just eighty-six years to a day from the beginning of bloodshe

gh as bad a slum as an American city could then show. Grog-shops swarmed in it and about every grog-shop swarmed the toughs of Baltimore. They were known locally as "plug-uglies." Like the New York "Bowery boys" of that time, they affected a sort of uniform, black dress trousers th

led by it. He turned to his father. The two were walking side by side, in the center of the

o me, Tom," s

t, which the "plug-uglies" thought was cowardice. They pressed closer. With a mighty rush, five thousand rioters broke the line of the thousand troops. The latter were forced into small groups, many of them without an officer. Each group had to act for it

ard,

But Mr. Strong had snatched Saltonstall's gun as it fell from his nerveless hands, had leveled and aimed it, and had shouted "fire!" to willing ears. A score of guns rang out. The mob-lea

un, Tom," sa

b behind followed them up. Bullets whizzed unpleasantly near. Twice, at Mr. Strong's command, the men faced about and fired a volley. In both these volleys, Tom's gun played its part. He had hunted before, but never such big game as men. The joy of battle possessed him. Since it was apparently a case of "kill or be killed," he shot to kill. Whether

y train. Orderlies were galloping about. Artillery surrounded the Capitol. And from its d

had seemed a national necessity. Lincoln spent many an hour in his private office, searching with a telescope the reaches of the Potomac, over which the troop-laden transports were expected. Once, when he thought he was alone, John Hay heard him call out "with irrepressible anguish": "Why don't they come? Why don't they come?" In public he gave no sign of the anxiety that was eating up his heart. He had the nerve to jest about it. The Sixth Massachusetts, the Se