STEPHEN MARTIN. 151 



stanced one that we both knew, but I still objected. She 

 was lost for about a month before I went West in '54, but 

 Steve found her after I had gone, and so she came into 

 possession of my father, as mentioned in a former sketch. 



When I returned, over five years later, my old chums 

 were looked up. Steve had grown into a strong man, 

 Pete Loeser had gone West, George Scott had acciden- 

 tally killed himself while pulling a loaded gun from a 

 bed, and quite a number of changes had taken place. I 

 did but little at fishing or shooting for a year, and then 

 the war broke out. Some time in July, 1861, Steve told 

 me about the scheme of Colonel Hiram Berdan to recruit 

 a company of sharpshooters, every man of which must be 

 able to make a string of ten shots at a certain distance 

 whose united measurements from the centre of the target 

 should not exceed a certain number of inches. I forget 

 the figures, but they were not in excess of the scores 

 usually made by the riflemen on the ice. 



"Now," said Steve, "you can pass this test; it is not a 

 severe one merely intended to get men who are fair 

 shots, and know how to use and care for a rifle. After 

 enlistment and muster every man will be given the rank 

 and pay of a second lieutenant, and will have a darkey to 

 carry his rifle and equipments. I've heard you say you'd 

 like to go, and here is your chance. I'll go if you will." 



"Steve," said I, "there is much doubt if my score 

 would pass ; you know that I do not see well at a distance, 

 and besides this my family affairs forbid my going. 

 That's a queer story about the enlisted men ranking as 

 commissioned officers; where did you get that?" 



"Why, that's the arrangement between Colonel Ber- 

 dan and the War Department; the men will all be com- 

 missioned after they are mustered into the United States 

 service ; at least that is what they tell me." 



