Chapter 35 - Page 2

would do.
The rest of us formed similar guards. In the southwest corner of the
Stockade--where I was--we formed ourselves into a company of fifty active
boys--mostly belonging to my own battalion and to other Illinois
regiments--of which I was elected Captain. My First Lieutenant was a
tall, taciturn, long-armed member of the One Hundred and Eleventh
Illinois, whom we called "Egypt," as he came from that section of the
State. He was wonderfully handy with his fists. I think he could knock
a fellow down so that he would fall-harder, and lie longer than any
person I ever saw. We made a tacit division of duties: I did the
talking, and "Egypt" went through the manual labor of knocking our
opponents down. In the numerous little encounters in which our company
was engaged, "Egypt" would stand by my side, silent, grim and patient,
while I pursued the dialogue with the leader of the other crowd. As soon
as he thought the conversation had reached the proper point, his long
left arm stretched out like a flash, and the other fellow dropped as if
he had suddenly come in range of a mule that was feeling well. That
unexpected left-hander never failed. It would have made Charles Reade's
heart leap for joy to see it.

In spite of our company and our watchfulness, the Raiders beat us badly
on one occasion. Marion Friend, of Company I of our battalion, was one
of the small traders, and had accumulated forty dollars by his bartering.
One evening at dusk Delaney's Raiders, about twenty-five strong, took
advantage of the absence of most of us drawing rations, to make a rush
for Marion. They knocked him down, cut him across the wrist and neck
with a razor, and robbed him of his forty dollars. By the time we could
rally Delaney and his attendant scoundrels were safe from pursuit in the
midst of their friends.

This state of things had become unendurable. Sergeant Leroy L. Key,
of Company M, our battalion, resolved to make an effort to crush the
Raiders. He was a printer, from Bloomington, Illinois, tall, dark,
intelligent and strong-willed, and one of the bravest men I ever knew.
He was ably seconded by "Limber Jim," of the Sixty-Seventh Illinois,
whose lithe, sinewy form, and striking features reminded one of a young
Sioux brave. He had all of Key's desperate courage, but not his brains
or his talent for leadership. Though fearfully reduced in numbers, our
battalion had still about one hundred well men in it, and these formed
the nucleus for Key's band of "Regulators," as they were styled. Among
them were several who had no equals in physical strength and courage in
any of the Raider chiefs. Our best man was Ned Carrigan, Corporal of
Company I, from Chicago--who was so