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Updated: June 17, 2025
Then he turned so that the light shone full in Sloan's face. "Good evening, Mr. Sloan," he said. "You'll excuse me, but is what this gentleman tells me all straight?" "Guess it is," Sloan smiled. "I'd bank on him myself." The farmer nodded with satisfaction. "All right then, Mr. What's-your-name. I'll have it done for you."
I told him you put the barge on rollers and towed it up to Ledyard with a traction engine. The letter from Sloan was to the effect that twelve cars were at that moment on the yard siding, loading with cribbing, and that all of it, something more than eighteen hundred thousand feet, would probably be in Chicago within a week. A note was scribbled on the margin in Sloan's handwriting.
"Do I know what?" asked his mother. "Do you know Archie Sloan's neck?" repeated her offspring. "I know Archie Sloan," answered the puzzled parent; "so I suppose I must know his neck. Why?" "Well," said Willie, "he just now fell into the back-water up to it."
The first regiments so formed were: First, Gregg's; Second, Kershaw's; Third, Williams'; Fourth, Sloan's; Fifth, Jenkins'; Sixth, Rion's; Seventh, Bacon's: Eighth, Cash's; Ninth, Blanding's; besides a regiment of regulars and some artillery and cavalry companies. There existed a nominal militia in the State, and numbered by battalions and regiments.
There was snow, deep, vast, glistening, when he arrived at Sloan's Station on the second morning, but the sun was out, and nothing could be more dazzling than the scene that stretched on every side. They had come through a blizzard and left it traveling eastward at a rapid rate.
In Sloan's office he stated his errand as briefly as on the former occasion, adding only that he had already seen Dennis. "I guess he told you all there is to tell," said the magnate. "We can't make the G.&M. give us cars. I've told Dennis to stir 'em up as hard as he could. I guess we'll have to wait." "I can't wait." "What else can you do?
"That's the only way to go, is it? Well, I'll see. Maybe a little later. How far is it?" "The farmers call it eighteen miles." Bannon nodded his thanks and went back to Sloan's office. "Well, it didn't take you long," said the magnate. "Find out what was the matter with'em?"
Then he turned so that the light shone full in Sloan's face. "Good evening, Mr. Sloan," he said. "You'll excuse me, but is what this gentleman tells me all straight?" "Guess it is," Sloan smiled. "I'd bank on him myself." The farmer nodded with satisfaction. "All right then, Mr. What's-your-name. I'll have it done for you."
"I'm dead certain there ain't two girls in the whole universe could have written that letter, and if you'd put any other one down with her, and I saw them side by side, I could tell first off which she was!" So they helped each other through that last exciting day, finding something to do up to the very last minute the next morning before it was time to start to Sloan's Station to meet the train.
It seems that such incidents were common in those days. Mrs. Sarah Sloan, now residing in Middlesboro tells the stories her mother has told her and she remembers one story in particular about old Aunt Suzy, an old negro slave who, after the close of the Civil War lived near Mrs. Sloan's mother.
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