Of course I was often in command of parties sent out on such an errand, but I am glad to think that, in this position, I was now and then able to save homesteads from fire, and their owners from murder. One night, whilst on picket duty, I left my party, and taking one man, Missouri Smith by name, rode over to a ranch some six miles away in the hills near Stranger Creek. I fully believed there were none of the enemy's scouts in the neighhourhood, and having a great attraction at the ranch, in the shape of a young lady named Margaret Hendricks, staying there, thought I would risk it. I was only twenty-three, so perhaps I may be excused. Anyway I fancy the same thing has been done often enough before, and for the same reason.
Bright eyes are hard to resist in the days of one's youth.
We reached the ranch about 9 p.m., seeing no sign of the enemy by the way, and hitched our horses to the fence close by. The ladies welcomed us very kindly, though Margaret warned me I was doing a very risky thing, as some of Lane's scouts had recently been seen in the neighbourhood, and begged me not to stay. Boy-like, I laughed at the danger, told her she needn't be afraid for me, and stayed on. It was hopeless to resist, so of course I caved in, and was at once disarmed. Sergeant Everard, in charge of the party of eight men, abused me roundly.