Rensselaer Semi-Weekly Republican, Volume 19, Number 18, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 5 November 1897 — SAVED BY SHABBINESS [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

SAVED BY SHABBINESS

MkHE first great ex--’|Lcitemeut of the op\ML cniu S of tlie csvil iMSgi war swept over the country like an irK \ resistible tidal M 7 wave in that memEf 2 ’ orablc year 1861, and I was caught

in the current, though nt college, and with nearly all my class enlisted among the first volunteers. My health not being very robust, instead of receiving orders for field service, I was commissioned to fill a place in a disbursement office. One day I was summoned into the presence of my commanding officer and told I was to accompany Capt. McKey (we will call him) to a certain city for money to pay the troops. The sum was $160,000. We were given particular directions ns to our going and coming. The distance was so great we were obliged to stay over night on the route. A large city was selected and we were advised as to the hotel. When we reached our destination Capt. McKay produced an old black bag for our precious burden. It was not an ordinary old wornoutAiag— such a one as an officer might have used until the gloss was gone and the edges were white. There was no air of ancient respectability about It. Since it was new much time must have elapsed, and heavy wear must have been its portion, judging from the patches which were not of the same kind of ahlny black leather as the primitive article. The Captain carried the bag and 1 watched the Captain. When the numbers traveling admitted of it, I took a seat just behind him; otherwise we sat together. I rather enjoyed hearing the comments of our fellow travelers on the Captain and his bag. One young lady said to her companion: “If that nicelooking captain has a wife she ought to be ashamed of herself for allowing her husband to carry such a furious looking old bag!" A couple of lads returning from school took the seat vacated by the ladles, and after they were settled they commenced to look about them, and one said to the other: “What's that Idler’s rank?'! “Which one?" asked his companion. “The one with the bag?" After studying some lime he replied, “Brevet colonel, I believe." “Brevet jack-a-napes!” exclaimed the first boy. “I believe he's a low-downer, eomething like an ‘orderly’ or an ‘adjutant.’ ” “No, sir-ree, sir; he's a ‘brevet’ of some kind. Didn't we have the explanation of ‘brevet’ the other day in class as a commission which entitles an officer to rank above his pay? Now that feller ranks above his pay, which accounts for bis uniform's being firstclass, for Uncle Sam settles the bills. But his pay does not allow him to have other nice things—like bags and things."

Aside from remarks, we met with no adventure, and reached the hotel where we were to spend the night about 9 in the evening. We had determined to avoid exciting remarks by making unnecessary requirements about our room, so simply asking for a room in the quiet part of the hotel where we could sleep in the morning, we were shown to one of a suite. We realized we had made a mistake in this particular when we were alone, and commenced to make plans for barricading, as the room had three doors to be looked after. “Now what will we do to the windows?” asked Capt. McKay, as we stood in our shirt sleeves, all heated from our exertions of moving a heavy mahogany bedstead without rollers in front of one door, a marble-topped washstand in front of another and a marble-topped bureau (also without casters) In front of the third. I considered myself something of a genius about a house, so I replied cheerfully: “I think I can fix the windows all right.” I took the chairs and the towel rack, some empty pasteboard boxes found in the closet and a bamboo whatnot and erected a pyramid between the windows. My idea was to construct an easily moved something so that anyone trying to enter by the window would give premonitory symptoms by « grand overthrow. The pyramid not •eing high enough, I bethought me of

the window nhades. Ab unfortunate thought, for I lamed my thumb and skinned several fingers trying to get the shades down. But at length we stood in admiring silence beftwe a pyramid that at its base took in both windows and at its summit, by the aid of the rolled ijp shades placed like an “A” to form in apex, reached nearly to the top of the room. We felt safe and retired for the night. I was awakened by thinking a detachment of artillery and an avalanche from the Matterhorn were attempting to enter our windows at,the same time. I gave a leap from the bed to ascertain what was the matter, when I found myself all enveloped in window shades (they having selected that pleasing moment to unwind after having rapped me awake. Capt. McKay assured me that I made use of various strong expressions as I struggled to free myself. After the closest scrutiny, we could discover no .trace of any attempt having been made to enter our roQjn ly th<j windows, but sundry movings about overhead led us to conclude our pyramid had received its overthrow from jars from that quarter. “Morn, waked by the circling hours, with rosy band,” had scarcely unbarred the gates of light when I felt something more vigorous than a “rosy hand” hold of my shoulder, and opening my eyes I saw the Ca Hain's face pale and distracted in fr< it of mine and heard him say in a voice trembling with emotion: “The bag is gone!” “It cannot be!” I cried, springing up in a frenzy of fear. But diligent search could not reveal its hiding place, There stood the heavy mahogany bed before one door, the washstand and bureau before the other two, undisturbed! The dust on the window lecges and sash seemed to prove that no one. not even the chambermaid, had interfered with them for some time.

“Let us get dressed and notify the authorities of our loss,” cried the Captain in a hoarse whisper. Both of us started to obey this suggestion and made such speed as we could, considering our oft-repeated tendencies to stop and search in probable and improbable nooks for the lost. I saw Capt. McKay pulling out the drawer in the bamboo whatnot, large enough to hold a writing pad with a few pencils; while I flew with a boot half-pulled on to search the top shelf In the closet. “I have looked there six times!” the Captain called out. “I shall be forever disgraced," he added with a groan. “And our brave boys, what will they do for their pay!” I said feebly—my imbecility showing itself in my alluding to such a painful view of the subject when the Captain was so overcome. “Do you think I shall allow them to lose a cent?" he asked, almost fiercely. “No, sir! I have SI,OOO in the bank and I'll use every bit of my pay and forfeit my pension to ——” Rap-a-tap—tap, came a summons to open the door, before which the heavy mahogany bed stood as an impenetrable fortification. I, with boot number one on and number two half on, and the Captain, with one arm in his vest, hastened to remove the obstruction with as little noise as possible, feeling we would rather not have It known how much we had barricaded. Several more raps came before we were ready, but at length we opened the door and in the dimness of a dark morning we saw a hall boy with a jug of water in one hand. I toojt the water, while the Captain said in an excited tone: “Boy, run down quickly and tell the hotel clerk to come up here! Why don't you start?” he asked, impatiently... “Yes, I’m going, mister, but fust let me ax ye if this here is yourn?” At that he held up his other hand and there we beheld the old, shabby, but inestimably precious bag! The Captain nearly swooned with joy, while I had presence of mind to tell the boy not to send up the clerk and to give him a sum of money that made him whittle all the way down the hall. The boy explained that ho picked up the bag just outside our door. Then we remembered when the lock of the door had proved refractory, the Captain had set it there, but neither of us had noticed that it was not picked up again. Blessed be shabbiness! we agreed, if it could accomplish the remarkable feat of preserving the sum of $160,000 in the hallway of a hotel so many hours. When the Captain and I had sufficiently recovered from falling on each other's necks and weeping tears of joy over the recovery of our treasure, the Captain said: “I can trust you not to tell this, I am sure, for if you do, and it should’’ reach the General's ears, it would mean the loss of my commission.” That is the reason I have waited until this time before giving the public this episode of the war—Orange Judd Farmer.