Wednesday, September 30, 2015

Called to Be His Friend by K. Meador #IndieloveAPC

He walks among the stars
as we sleep a sound slumber
He makes the lightening and rain
He commands the thunder

He has made heaven and earth
too much for me to understand
but the greatest event that He ever made
is my soul’s redemption by taking my sin

Upon the tree at Calvary
He died so I can live
when the Truth came to me
I realized that I, along with Him,
died there at Calvary

Praising His name is what He deserves
giving ourselves completely to Him is His desire
It is He who came to serve
and it is now our time to serve Him

Having freedom is so hard to grasp
abundance of life He does give
but I latch onto the worries of this life
and forget my freedom through Him
I forget that my God is an awesome God

Take your cross daily and follow me
only comes through hard lessons taught everyday
letting control go and letting Him in
Brings to me an everlasting joy

Who on this earth knows me better than Him?
He has the hairs on my head numbered strand by strand
He knows my needs before I ask
so why do I go to Him in prayer?

He wants me as His daughter
He wants me as His child
but most of all I believe
He wants me as His friend

To talk with Him is to grow with Him
to read His Word is to know Him
How intimately He knows me
and how He wants me to know Him

He loves me so much
that He gave me the ability to choose
I choose to deny Him or not
to curse Him or not
to ignore Him or not

How my Father hates these choices
when the wrong one are chosen
‘cause everyday those that confess to know Him
choose to deny Him by being compliant
choose to curse Him by not rebuking His enemies
choose to ignore Him by choosing no prayer

Those who confess Him as Lord and Savior
is putting Him to death again everyday
by making choices that are against Him

Oh how I want to weep
when I examine my heart
why does He still hold tight to my heart
instead of letting my soul rot in hell

Because of His love that is complete
not lacking, not faltering, not wavering
The same yesterday, today and forever
being steady is His love
so steady on I go trying not to sin

Just as the stars have a name
and the ocean is known by Him
Just as He alone knows the end to space
I know that I know
I have a Savior who calls me His Friend.

His forgiveness is deep
as I turn to Him again and again weepin’

and I still hear Him calling me His Friend.

If you have enjoyed this poem, why don't you check out the rest of them? 

Saturday, September 26, 2015

Top 10 Things Engineering School Didn’t Teach You

1. There are at least 10 types of capacitors.

2. Theory tells you how a circuit works, not why it does not work.

3. Not everything works according to the specs in the databook.

4. Anything practical you learn will be obsolete before you use it, except the complex math, which you will never use.

5. Engineering is like having an 8 a.m. class and a late afternoon lab every day for the rest of your life.

6. Overtime pay? What overtime pay?

7. Managers, not engineers, rule the world.

8. Always try to fix the hardware with software.

9. If you like junk food, caffeine, and all-nighters, go into software.

10. Dilbert is not a comic strip, it’s a documentary.

Friday, September 25, 2015

ZUCCHINI CHIPS 21 Day Fit Recipe

Prep Time: 15 min.
Cooking Time: 2 hrs. C

2 large zucchini, very thinly sliced
1 Tbsp. olive oil
½ tsp. sea salt (or Himalayan salt)

1. Preheat oven to 225° F.
2. Place zucchini slices in one layer between paper towels to help draw out liquid.
3. Line two large baking sheets with parchment paper.
4. Place zucchini slices on prepared baking sheets.
5. Brush zucchini with oil; sprinkle with salt.
6. Bake for 2 hours, or until golden brown and crispy.
7. Cool completely before serving. 2 large zucchini, very thinly sliced 1 Tbsp. olive oil ½ tsp. sea salt (or Himalayan salt)

NUTRITIONAL INFORMATION (per serving): Calories: 57 Total Fat: 4 g Saturated Fat: 1 g Cholesterol: 0 mg Sodium: 298 mg Carbohydrates: 5 g Fiber: 2 g Sugars: 4 g Protein: 2 g 

Thursday, September 24, 2015

Want a free book? Click to find out more details...

With all that is going on in our lives today, I wanted to share a few thoughts about getting reviews. Please click on the link below, and while you are reading my latest newsletter please consider subscribing to my mailing list. 

Authors Love Reviews brought to you by your favorite authors at Amazon, Barnes and Nobles, Goodreads, Audible and Itunes. 

Every time another review comes out, I let out a deep breath ~ Michael Chabon 


Read past issues HERE

Book Spotlight Through Trials and Towers (Tal'Avern Chronicles Book 3) #IndieLoveAPC


Buy Now from Amazon Ebook $3.99
As the harsh winter ends, Tal'Avern is on the brink of war. The great wall that stretched across the southern border of the Province has been destroyed and is engulfed in flames, but the fires won't burn for long. When they go out, the waiting hordes of goblins and Slaath will sweep up from the Ashlands and into the Province unchallenged. In the lands of Mar'Druk, the dwarves will be facing a relentless foe against the combined might of the united clans of orcs. 
What chance does the world have against such odds? What hope is there against armies who are led by a god that is bent on conquering the world? Against dragons that can't be killed, who bring death and destruction with their very breath? 

Varik, Chaz, Camila, and Wrinn begin their search for the lost towers of Zanimarith, where they hope to find the answers to defeating Visanith, while Jenna, Rhogar, and Esmara head off in search of a way to fight back against the dragons. 

If they fail, Tal'Avern will fall to the darkness that is poised to sweep north and engulf the entire world. The stage is set. The war is about to begin. And everyone has a part to play in it.

Readers Reviews:

~~~Fast paced, well written, and totally developed. It just gets more exciting with each page. Everything this author has written that I have read, has been extraordinary well done! I still highly recommend this series of books

~~~Four companions begin what could be a hopeless quest to find a way to defeat Visanith, while others go on their own quest, searching for a way to fight back against the dragons. All their hopes rest on nothing more than children's stories, can this be enough to help them

Amazon Link

Wednesday, September 23, 2015

I thought it would be you by K. Meador #IndieLoveAPC @authorkmeador

it was but a moment in time; and yet I believed it would be you
you held my hand and stole a piece of my heart
you spoke to me, saying what I wanted to hear; I believed in us – in you
and now my heart is breaking because once we were together but now we are apart

words spoken by you were only there for that moment in time
it is no pain to you as you walk away and I, well, I look through tears as I thought it would be you
to be by your side to laugh, to cry, to speak, to grow, to enjoy life together for a lifetime
but as you walk away you just say, can we remain friends? When inside, cry is all I do

words of love turned cold, distant and mean; when it isn't my love it wants anymore
acting as though we didn’t laugh, we didn’t cry, we didn’t speak, we didn’t grow, that we weren’t true
so today I wake and breathe and pray for night and at night pray for day and in each moment the pain I ignore
until the memory of us fades away but once in a while I remember -I thought it would be you

Buy the ebook on Amazon for .99 

Poetry for the Heart and Soul 

Buy the Audio Book on Audible

Saturday, September 19, 2015

A Humorous look at a Day in the Life of an Author

Daily schedule of an author who works swing shift as an aircraft inspector from 3 pm to 2 am. 

  •  11:00 a.m.   Wake up. Check and reply to emails via smart phone. 
  • 11:30 am     Get dressed.  Check and reply to messages and notifications on Facebook.
  • 11:50 am     Go into kitchen; talk to significant other half. Eat breakfast. Check twitter. Reply to those who actually hold conversations. Delete spam. Schedule retweets. Finish breakfast. 
  • 12:45 pm     Check google plus. Check and reply to blogs.
  • 1:30 pm       Shower, light housework
  • 2:30 pm       Go to work - a 10 hour shift. On breaks and lunch check for updates on social sites via smart phone.
  • 2:30 am       arrive back home. Talk to significant other half
  • 2:45 am       catch up social networking that I couldn't at work. More housework.  Talk to significant other half
  • 3:00 am       if able, write on current story, edit current story
  • 4:00 am       go to bed - dream of my characters plots if I am not too tired

And sometimes I actually get to squeeze in time at the gym when schedule permits.Repeat 5 - 6 days a week.  

Some real conversations I have been a part of: 

  • comment: So, you are an author. You don't write that mushy romance junk do you?
  • comment: So, you are an author. Why do you still work here? 
  • comment: So, you are an author. I'd like to read your book. Can you give it to me?
  • comment: So, you are an author. I'm surprised you put so much effort into this. 
  • comment: So, you are an author. That really isn't a job, right? More like a hobby, isn't it? 
  • comment: So, you are an author. You should write science fiction; that's what I read.  
  • comment: So, you are an author. Can you tell me how to publish a book? 
  • comment: So, you are an author. How long did it take you to write it? 
  • comment: So, you are an author. I want to stay at home and play on the computer all day. 
  • comment: So, you are an author. I don't like sad endings. Do you have sad endings?
  • comment: So, you are an author. I read one of your books and you got it totally wrong.
  • comment: So, you are an author. Do you actually sell books?
  • comment: So, you are an author. You co-authored one of your books, so its not really yours, is it?

What I really want you, the reader, to know:

  • My house doesn't get cleaned on a regular basis.
  • I love creating stories for you to read.
  • There will be more books. 
  • I spend 20-30 hours a week writing, editing, and marketing on top of a 50 hour full time job in order to produce books. 
  • I will continue working two jobs until my writing makes me enough that I can stay home and do it full time. Then there will be even more books.
  • I thank you for your continued support, and patience. 
  • Your support through buying my books, writing reviews, telling others, and sharing links with others is invaluable to me and is greatly appreciated. 

Friday, September 18, 2015

La Princesa y el Dragon Contest Nominee @PrincessAlexia0 #AutopublicaConKindle

The Spanish edition of Princesa Alexia and the Dragon has been chosen to be a part of Amazon’s 2nd Literary Contest for the Spanish Language (Indie Authors). Winner will be chosen on October 15, 2015. 

 La Princesa Alexia y el Dragon por K. Meador

Sigue a La Princesa Alexia y a su perra, Zoey, mientras se embarcan en una misión para enfrentarse al dragón de aliento de fuego. Ella espera hacer lo que los soldados del Rey no pudieron: capturar al dragón para que otra Celebración de la Huerta de la Manzana Abundante no sea atacada y sus tierras abrasadas. Cuando La Princesa Alexia se enfrenta a su adversario, está aterrada, pero sus miedos disminuyen una vez que ella y Titus el dragón empiezan a hablar. ¿Podrá ella convencer a Titus de parar de atormentar al reino? ¿Podrá el festival ser celebrado sin miedo a la destrucción?

Any support by sharing on social media will be appreciated. Please use in your posts #AutopublicaConKindle

Princess Alexia and the Dragon by K. Meador

Follow Princess Alexia as she and her brave dog, Zoey, embark on a mission to confront a fire-breathing dragon. She hopes to do what her father’s soldiers could not, capture the dragon so another Ample Apple Orchard celebration would not be attacked and the land set ablaze. 

When Princess Alexia faces her adversary, she is frightened, but her fears abate once she and Titus, the dragon, begin talking. Can she convince Titus to stop plaguing her father’s kingdom, and will the festival be celebrated without fear of destruction?

Any support by sharing on social media will be appreciated. Please use in your posts #AutopublicaConKindle


SERVES: 4 (2 skewers each)
Prep Time: 20 min.
Cooking Time: 10 min.

8 bamboo skewers
1 lb. raw chicken breast, boneless, skinless, cut into 16 1-inch pieces
 ¼ cup reduced-sodium tamari soy sauce, gluten-free
2 tsp. sesame oil
2 tsp. grated fresh ginger
1 (8-oz.) can pineapple chunks in juice, drained
1 medium red bell pepper, cut into 16 1-inch chunks
½ large red onion, cut into 16 1-inch chunks

1. Soak bamboo skewers in water for 30 minutes.
2. Place chicken in resealable plastic bag (or container); add soy sauce, oil, and ginger; seal bag and shake gently to mix. Refrigerate at least 30 minutes to marinate.
3. Preheat gas or charcoal grill on medium heat.
4. Place a piece of chicken, pineapple chunk, bell pepper, and onion onto a skewer. Repeat, so the skewer has two pieces of each ingredient. Repeat with seven remaining skewers. Discard marinade that contained chicken.
5. Grill skewers on covered grill for 4 to 5 minutes on each side, or until chicken is no longer pink in the middle.
6. Serve immediately. 

Thursday, September 17, 2015

Author Promo Co-op: Book Review Transitory by Ian Williams #IndieLoveAPC

Buy Amazon Ebook .99
Genre: Science Fiction and Thriller

Overall Rating: 5 stars

Editing and Proofing: 5/5

Linguistics and Stylistics: 4.5/5

Plot Development: 5/5

Plot Pacing: 4.5/5

Character Development: 5/5

If I asked some people where they would like to go for their next vacation, people may name places like Hawaii, Italy, Florida, Tahiti, or any number of places. No one would say ‘to a faraway planet where I can visit my past memories.’ The concept of easy travel between Earth and other planets is strange to us, but in Transitory, Ian Williams makes it seem like an everyday occurrence, as simple as a commute to and from work.
Transitory tells the story of Nathan Maddox, CEO of a mining company that searches space for new mines. He and his coworker Helen attend a festival on another planet where people can travel back and revisit old memories. While Nate partakes in the festivities, with a bodyguard named Cameron and a guide named L’Armin in tow, Helen stays behind. When Nate’s view of his most precious memories are marred by a mysterious intruder, Nate realizes that he has become a target for an intergalactic assassination attempt. Even worse, he suspects that someone he has trusted his whole life is behind the plan to take his life. Nate realizes that he must stop the mysterious would-be assassin before he dies in his past memories on another planet (where would THAT funeral be held?).

Ian’s ability to effectively use language to describe, characterize, and narrate is superb. Although the esoteric descriptions can slow down reading at times, they in no way distract from the enjoyment of the story. Ian is highly skilled at narrating a scene to make the reader as if he or she is actually experiencing the events him- or herself. The characters are far from flat. They are very well-characterized to the point where you feel you know them personally; Nate can be your coworker or your drinking buddy. My personal favorite character is L’Armin, whose duties as host and tour guide do not stop him from challenging Nate’s long-held beliefs, drilled into him since childhood by his relentlessly ambitious, workaholic father.

L’Armin gives Nate several points to consider. The first is exploiting others for personal gain and profit. When Nate mentions to L’Armin that his company mines space rocks and actively seeks out new sources, L’Armin, whose race had once been enslaved, L’Armin clearly expresses his disapproval. Another is respect for other cultures and races, even if they are from another planet. In one unforgettable scene, L’Armin takes Nate and Helen to visit what was once the home land of L’Armin’s race. Nate is shocked at the sight of the deserted wasteland that was once his friend’s home.

Another theme that recurs throughout the story is trust versus betrayal. By the end of his journey through his past memories, Nate is so confused that doesn’t know whom to trust, and even briefly believes Helen is behind the plot. The interaction (apparently peaceful) between humans and aliens sends a strong social message of peace and tolerance.

I first read Transitory almost a year ago (this post has been transferred from another blog site) and it is still one of my science fiction favorites. Check it out today.

Wednesday, September 16, 2015

The Valley of Choice #IndieLoveAPC

It sneaked up on you and took you away from those you love. It stole your hobbies such as skating and drawing that you once held a passion. A broken family is their replacement, one whom you took advantage of and are now withdrawing from you. 

The drugs you use snickers, for it knows the doors that were once open are now closed. Not forever, but for now, and the drug knows this. But it doesn’t mind because for now you belong to it. 

In moments of sobriety you wonder why? what happened? and what are you going to do? For those who love you, haven’t stopped loving you, but have tried time after time. Dutifully and woefully listening to your words and somehow they knew the valley of choice you built for yourself is deep, and the hill is steep to climb, but it is yours to climb.

You think, because those you love aren’t close around, that you are alone now, but you are not. Mom watches from a distance as you choose to walk your own way. Mom begs you to understand; it’s your disruption actions that she can’t allow and her pain is like a two edged sword, because as your Mom, her desire is for you to stay clean. You are in the valley of choices and consequences. 

Mom prays good things for you, as she is willing you to fight for you and yet the hold that drugs have on you is strong and fighting it is not what you want to do. Mom grieves in quiet despair, her heart in a state of sadness and blue as she waits for you to decide to release the drugs that makes you so nonchalant. 

Far away but never far in a Mom’s thoughts; she does not do what her heart wants but allows wisdom to preside. Rescuing you is what you want, my son, but it is the last thing you need. 

When the words Mom hears you speak brings small joy to her heart, before she realizes that are only a taunt. For it is, once again, only in speech and backed up not in deed. 

Mom’s heart grieves for her son, as her eyes fill with distraught tears. Sadness clutches her as she watches him stagger through the valley of choice hoping that he knows that a Mom’s love for her son will never disappear. In his ear, she speaks of her love and hopes, in the quiet, he hears the truth in her voice.

Although this is not a poem, it is spoken from my heart and dedicated to my son. 

Poetry from the Heart and Soul 

Listen to it on Audible

Sunday, September 13, 2015

Read Chapter 1 - Chapter 3 for #Free The Knight of the Dixie Wilds #IndieLoveAPC

                                                                  CHAPTER I

Reconstruction Era; Buy Now on Amazon
Colonel Tyler, broken in health and worn from hard life in the trenches, returned from the War at its close in the spring of 1865.

He had been a wealthy planter, owning two large plantations and many slaves. His home was near Pearl River, sixteen miles above Jackson in the state of Mississippi. Before the War, his place was one of the beautiful spots in Dixie. The country was one of tall trees, crooked rivers, clear creeks, and fertile lands. In the springtime, when magnolia, dogwood, woodbine, and wild plum trees were in bloom, the forest was one continuous bouquet of beauty. Blackberries, grapes, and wild cherries were abundant in the summer. The fall with its hickory nuts, beechnuts, and ripe persimmons was no less attractive than the other seasons.

The Colonel’s eldest son, who was destined to lead a picturesque life and become the hero of this story, had not yet reached his teens. Because of his habit of rambling in the woods in search of game and other wild adventures, he had been nicknamed “Buck”. Strenuous out-of-door life had given him strength and endurance equal to that of a wild Indian.

His almost constant companion was a Negro boy named King. King was about Buck’s size, but was two years older and of stocky build. Although he had been a slave all his life, the two boys had been born playfellows ever since they could remember. Through Buck’s influence with his father, King had often been spared punishment and had obtained favors which the other Negroes never enjoyed.

While Colonel Tyler was in the War, the two boys explored every thicket on the hills and every jungle in the swamps for miles around. They spent nearly all of the days and much of the nights in the woods. They kept a pack of dogs, which they had trained to hunt the many kinds of wild animals that were to be found in the wild sections of that country.

Like thousands of other once wealthy slave owners, their sudden misfortune was too much for their pride. Furthermore, there appeared to be nothing ahead of them in the war-swept country but starvation. They decided to sell out what little they had left and leave the desolate scene. The question was,Where should they go? The Colonel wanted someplace far removed from all that would remind him of the past, to start all over again in some frontier country where land was cheap and where he could reasonably hope for better opportunities for his children.

Australia, South America, and the frontier of Texas were considered. After a lengthy consideration, they decided on Texas. There were many broken-up families in the community that held similar views. They, too, were anxious to hide their poverty and broken pride from the eyes of gloating enemies. From these, the Colonel selected a dozen families who he induced to venture forth on the hazardous trail toward the West. They turned what little property they had into cash, at less than half its worth, and purchased wagons, teams, guns, ammunition, tools, and camping outfits.

As the day of departure came near, Buck grew distressed over the thought of being separated from his life-long playfellow, King. It had been decided that none of the Negroes would be taken along, but after long and earnest pleading by Buck, the Colonel relented and agreed to let King go.

King was an orphan, and while the other Negroes had no control over him, they strongly opposed his being taken away to a country unknown to them. They used all of their power to keep King from agreeing to go. They told him that hostile wild Indians would kill and scalp him if he went with the Boss to Texas; but King was determined to go wherever Buck went, regardless of the results.

He declared that he was not afraid to go anywhere, as long as Buck and the Boss were with him. He pointed to the fact that the Yankees had been trying to kill the Boss for four years but had failed, and he felt sure that Indians were no better fighters than the Yankees.


Preparations for the long journey were completed, so they hitched the teams to their canvas-covered wagons and began saying farewell to the large assembly of kindred and friends. This was a sad hour to all. Women wept in each other’s arms, while strong men trembled with speechless emotion when they gripped hands, as they believed, for the last time in this world. They were leaving forever the land of their forefathers, the graves of departed loved ones, the dear scenes of happy childhood, the peerless Pearl River, shaded by wide-spreading beech and magnolia trees. Tear-stained handkerchiefs waved until the moving caravan was lost to view on the winding road.

On reaching the ferry on Pearl River, they were joined by several more families, and the refugees were on the first leg of the long journey to an, as yet, unknown country. Progress was painfully slow. Much of the road was all but impassable. Washed-out bridges and high water in the large creeks and rivers caused long delays. After nearly three months on the road, they found themselves on what appeared to be boundless prairies, west of the Brazos River in Texas. As far as the eye could see, there was nothing but the monotony of a treeless country. They made a temporary camp and examined the surroundings for several days. They assembled in a camp one morning and held a council. Thomas Ratliff, the oldest man in the party, expressed himself as follows:

“I have examined this land carefully and find it to be as rich as any in the world, and it is so near level that it will never wash away. The price of it is almost nothing. The boundless range of fine grass is sufficient for all of our stock, the year around. If we settle here, we will, in the course of a few years, grow rich with development of this matchless country. I believe it will take us but a short time to regain our lost fortunes here.”

All of the other men, except Colonel Tyler, were of Ratliff’s opinion and decided to settle there.

“Perhaps all of you are right in your opinions of the country,” replied the Colonel, “but I differ with you. There is no timber here for building fences. No logs or lumber with which to build houses. There is but little firewood and no running water.

“There is not a post-office, grist mill, or doctor within fifty miles of this place. No railroad market nearer than a hundred miles. I cannot subject my family to the hardships that will follow if I should settle here.

“I am going to head back eastward and travel until I find more timber and some marks of civilization. When I locate, I will write and give a full description of what I find, so that, in case you decide later to move from this part, you can follow me, if I have found a better one.”

Pathetic farewells were exchanged the next morning, and Colonel Tyler and his family drove back toward the rising sun.


Three days’ travel on the old San Antonio and Nacogdoches road brought them to the Brazos River, near the site where once flourished the town of Washington, first capital of Texas. This region during an early period had been the scene of numerous battles between the whites and Indians and also between Texans and Mexicans during the war between the two republics.

They found the river nearly level with its banks and rising. The old ferry cable, during the previous night, had broken from pressure of large drifts of floating brush and timber. In consequence of this, the ferryboat had been swept downstream by the flood waters. Not knowing when the ferry would be made passable, the Tylers went into camp. After dinner, the boys gathered in the wood for the night and fed the oxen. They had brought two of their hunting dogs all the way from Mississippi. Seeing that the brushy country up the river looked wild and good for game, Buck and King whistled up their dogs and struck out in the woods for a hunt.

Soon, old Jeff and Sound were barking on a warm trail, followed closely by the boys. When dogs tree a varmint, their barking changes from a long sound to one that is short and fierce. When the boys heard the wild barking of the dogs, they joyously excited and hurried on. When they came in sight, they saw the dogs baying around the open end of a large, hollow cottonwood log. The boys quickly built a fire in the open end of the log and then chopped a smaller hole in the log farther up. When the smoke began to fog out of the small hole, a large wildcat sprang out. Before he hit the ground, the dogs tied onto him. The fight that followed was terrific. Seeing that the cat was getting the best of the battle, King dashed in and dealt it a death-blow with the axe.
The boys skinned the cat while the dogs were taking a needed rest. This done, the boys sat down to view the strange scenes in the new country. Suddenly, an odd-looking character appeared from behind a nearby thicket. His clothes were ragged. He had long hair and a thick beard. Everything about him appeared dilapidated except his two big pistols. They were in perfect condition.
“What are you doing here?” he asked in a gruff tone. “Where did you come from?”
“From Mississippi,” Buck replied.
“We ain’t livin’,” King interjected. “We is jist camped down by de ferry. We wuz gwyne east tel’ we foun’ dat de high watah had broke de rope at de ferry an’ let de boat git away. De Boss an’ ole Mistice wid de Chillum is down dar in camp.”
“Was your Boss a soldier?”
“Yasah,” answered King, “he fit de Yankees foah years.”
The face of the stranger, sullen up to this point, relaxed now and mellowed into a smile. After a moment’s study, he said to Buck, “Go back to camp and tell your Daddy to slip away and come up here; that a Confederate soldier wants to warn him against a danger. What I want to tell him is very important, and he must lose no time in coming here.”
The boys hurried back to camp and delivered the message. After studying the matter carefully, the Colonel shouldered his gun and walked stealthily through the woods towards the place where the boys had left the stranger.
When he saw him, he slowed his gait and approached cautiously. After greeting the Colonel cordially, the stranger said, “There is a band of outlaws camped a short distance below the ferry. They claim to be lawfully commissioned scouts of the military, when in fact they are nothing but scalawags that were kicked out of the Yankee army about the close of the War last spring. They are still wearing the Yankee uniforms for the sake of appearance. When it suits their purpose, they disguise as ex-rebels and rob men and caravans that travel the public road. If you have money, hide it well, soon after dark, because during the night, a bunch of them disguised as outlaws, will rob you. Then in the morning, clothed in their uniforms, they will pretend to search the country for the robbers.
"I am an ex-Confederate soldier. They robbed me of what little I had and ordered me to leave the country, or they would scalp me the next time we met. They were in disguise at the time, but I recognized several of them. A good friend of mine fought them to save his money. They killed him and took what he had. I am going to ambush around here until I kill three of them that I have recognized and then leave the country. Don’t fight them, there are too many of them for that.”
The Colonel read honesty in the strange face. He thanked him for the warning, shook his hand in a brotherly way and returned to his camp. He told no one about his talk with the stranger until about ten o’clock that night, at which time he called Buck to one side and told him of the probable attack that he was expecting a little later.
“Take this, and hide it,” he said to his son as he handed him his roll of bills. “Use your own judgment as to the place of concealment. I do not want to know the place you hide it, because they may torture me to make me tell. They will never suspect a boy knowing anything about money matters. Remember that if they come to rob us, they will search the wagons and every piece of our baggage. I will not distress your mother with knowledge of this matter now, because it is possible that they will not make the attack. If they do come and I should be killed in self-defense, get the money from where you hid it at the proper time and give it to your mother as soon as you are sure that it is safe to do so.”

The Colonel left Buck there to study up a safe hiding place for the money. Buck thought of the middle of the sack of flour, the bottom of the unused coffeepot and the ox-bell, and passed them all up as unsafe.

“Ah! I have it,” he whispered to himself. The coupling pole of the large wagon was made of a three-inch gas pipe with the rear end open. He went to the wagon, took the money, sixty fifty-dollar bills in greenbacks, twisted them into a close roll and shoved that eighteen inches back into the pipe. Behind the money, he pushed in a quart of stiff mud. This done, he walked nonchalantly back to the campfire and joined the others in a discussion of the new country.
It was now bedtime. Everyone retired and, except for the Boss and Buck, soon fell asleep. Anticipation of coming events kept these two wide awake. Shortly after eleven o’clock, four masked men, one with a small torch in his hand, noiselessly entered the tent and commanded silence. The Queen woke, and her half uttered scream of fright blended into a low-spoken prayer. The leader of the robbers ordered all of the adults to stand up and raise their hands. When this was obeyed, he ordered the Colonel to surrender all of his money.

The latter declared that he was broke except for a few dollars in his pants’ pocket and asked that they not take all of it as he had no other resources on which to continue his travel.
The leader answered, “You have more money somewhere. Get it, and be fast about it.”
“No,” returned the Colonel, “I have no more money.”
At this juncture, the Colonel gave the leader a Masonic sign, to which the robber replied, “I understand that, but it don’t go with me now. I do not belong, just now, and never expect to anymore.”
While one of them kept the little group covered with a pistol, the other three broke open all of the trunks and searched each one thoroughly. They ripped open the mattress and feather beds. They examined the linings of wearing apparel, tore open the sack of flour and emptied the provisions-box. When they started to examine the nightwear that Mrs. Tyler had on, Buck, who had been watching their every movement from a roll of bedding, sprang out with his father’s gun in hand. Before he could use it, he was knocked down, disarmed, and kicked out of the tent.
 “You are a game little rooster,” remarked the man that kicked him, “but you had better remain where you are, or I will clip your comb the next time.”
After they had exhausted their search for the money and found none, the leader said to the Colonel, “Old man! You have money buried or hidden around here, and you had better get it now. We are going to keep a sharp watch on you, and when you bring it out, we will kill each one of you and take the money. If you get it now, we’ll let you keep one-fourth of it and let you go. It will be better for you to keep one-fourth of it and live than to die with none of it.”
Buy on Audible
The Colonel maintained that he had no more money, and the robbers, after a round of cursing, disappeared in the night. Galloping up to the tent early the next morning, six men in blue uniforms greeted the Colonel. Their spokesman said that he had seen a light moving about in the tent late in the night and figured that someone was seriously sick or in trouble. Colonel Tyler explained to him that four disguised men had come into his tent and robbed him of what little money he had and had threatened to kill him and his family if he did not produce more money.
The soldiers appeared to become excited and angry. The leader declared that there was a band of ex-rebel robbers operating in that section and he was sure that it was they who robbed the Colonel. He further declared that he and his men would find and kill them. He said that the leader of the robber band was a dirty, long-haired thief, who wore a heavy black beard. He advised the Colonel to shoot him if he ever met him.
On seeing King, the leader asked the Colonel what he was doing with that Negro boy in his camp. The Boss explained that the boy belonged to him when he was freed and wanted to remain with him—that he was an orphan with no one to take care of him. “If you have papers showing that a lawful court has given you the right to hold him, show them to me,” the leader commanded. “Otherwise, I will take him in charge.”
The Colonel admitted that he possessed no such papers. King, with his eyes full of distress, came forward to explain.