Watson, dazed from the impact of the hard floor, was stunned as he
slowly stood to face Liam, his green eyes blazing emerald fire, his red hair
seemed to blaze beneath his wide brimmed hat.

        Two soldiers rushed into the room and stopped when they saw Liam
with the smoking pistol and the gaping hole in the table. "Arrest that man,
soldier, the charge is sodomy." The soldiers knew better than to disobey
Liam O'Conell.

        "Yes, sir." The two soldiers grabbed Watson under the arms and pulled
him out the door, cursing and screaming.

        "I will get you, you fucking Irish trash!"

        Liam walked over and backhanded Watson in the mouth; blood trickled from his
lips. "I also want him gagged and placed in solitary confinement at Fort Dearborn until I
contact the President. "If I ever needed a favor from my third cousin, it is now." The two
soldiers just looked on and Watson dropped his head in defeat; he knew he would not see
daylight for a long time, if ever. He knew over in England that, if convicted of sodomy, it
was death by firing squad. The two soldiers dragged the doctor away.

        Liam then looked closely to where Davie still lay. He saw specks of
blood on Davie's pale butt cheeks. "Oh dear Saint Patrick, I hit Davie." He
holstered the pistol and moved swiftly to the table, then he noticed the bullet had
showered the boy with splinters when it impacted the table.  He was surprised the boy
was not crying or weeping, just lying there, shivering from fright. "Davie, you OK, lad?"

        Davie slowly turned around and looked at the Quartermaster. "Yesss,
sir, I guess, but I hurt and my ass stings."

        Liam smiled at Davie. "Oh my lad, you just got a small taste of war,
but we usually don't fire at our own men."

        "Sir, what about John and Ernest? Are they OK?"

        Liam looked over to the corner where the two brothers were huddled
together, holding each other tight. "Ah, my boyos, it is clear now. Come here
to me. The two brothers crawled out of the corner and slowly approached
Liam. They did know whether to trust him or not, and being buck ass naked
did not help the situation. "Lads, get dressed, John and Ernest, help Davie
and be gentle. I don't see no damage in his behind but I want to take you three home with
me and quarter you there for tonight and then we will see if you still want to be in the
Navy."

        The two younger boys eased toward where Davie was slowly easing
off the rough table. They just looked for a moment at Davie, scared that he
would lash out at them for holding his legs. "Umm, Davie, we're sorry we
had to hold your legs like we did. Please don't be mad at us."

        Davie looked over at John, the brother who had spoken to him, and he
saw the worry and the tears in the younger boy's eyes.

        "Oh, John, I could never be mad at you two. You did nothing wrong,
just followed that sadist doctor's orders."

        "Whew." John wiped the sweat forming on his head and smiled at
Ernest.

        "Come here, you two!" The two brothers walked over to Davie. Davie
wrapped his powerful arms around the two naked shivering boys and hugged
them tightly. "We better get dressed before someone else decides to open
fire. If I am being shot at, I would at least like to have some clothes on."
Davie chuckled when he saw the stern expression on Liam's face melt into a
grin.

        "Nobody hurts my boyos, if I can help It. Now get those cute buns
in your underwear, while I find my boyos the proper Navy Blues to wear." The
quartermaster headed to the rear room while the three boys dressed in their
underclothing.

 "Davie, would you please step back here, my boy; let's see if this
Navy blue jacket will fit ya."

        Davie walked back to the separated supply room. Uniforms were
stacked on shelves surrounding the walls of the small room. Four oil lamps
hung in the center of the wood ceiling, casting shadows throughout the
room.

        "Ah, here you go, my boy, try them on and let me see how handsome
you look."

        Davie took the uniform from Liam and sat down and slipped on the
dark royal blue trousers and then stood up and reached down and slipped the
brass button through the buttonhole. Then he took the jacket and slipped it
on over his shoulders and buttoned the single row of brass eagle buttons
from chin to bottom one. Then he took the blue sailor's cap and placed it
over his dull red hair. Davie knew it needed washing but in the wintertime
and in a leaky, creaky shack he lived in, washing anything but the necessary
areas was not a good idea.

        "Very handsome indeed, my boyo. Here, put on these good shoes. They
should fit fine."

        Davie took the shoes and looked down at his dirty socks. He slipped
the shoes on and laced them up and stood not too bad. "They fit fine, sir,
kinda loose but OK."

        "Very fine, my lad. Go outside and see what your new friends think of
you now, all dressed up." Liam smiled, he did make a handsome sailor.

        Davie walked into the other room and Liam could hear the whistles of
approval from the two brothers.

        "OK, boyos, it's your turns, come on back here so I can see what I can find for my
two drummer boys."

        John and Ernest raced to where Liam was standing in the supply room,
Davie on their heels like an older brother. Liam watched the three boys and
he thought, 'Yes, yes, Davie would be a fine older brother for these two. They would be
safe with Davie watching over them.'

        Liam handed both brothers a stack of blue uniforms. 'Here, try these on while I dig
Davie out two more sets for him. Liam walked over the shelf and pulled two more sets of
trousers and jackets and three pair of socks and long woolen underwear that was dyed a
dark blue for Davie and grabbed a duffel bag and stuffed them inside and passed it to
Davie.

        Davie smiled, "Thank you, sir!" Davie looked over to Ernest and John
and they were just buttoning up their jackets. "Looked like what you picked
out for those two was just right and, boy, do they look cute."

        Liam looked over, "You're right, Davie, those two are cute in their
Union blues just like you, my boy." Liam grabbed four more uniforms and six pair of
socks and two more duffel bags and stuffed both of them and handed two smaller pairs of
shoes to John and Ernest. "Here ya go, boyos, try these shoes on."

        The two brothers put the shoes on and laced them up. They smiled,
"Thank you for the nice shoes, sir!" They smartly saluted the Quartermaster
like they had seen others doing it.

        Liam smiled and returned the salute and Davie, not to be outdone,
saluted also. "Ah, my boyos, I am so proud of you three." Liam walked over
and hugged all three. He smiled, "That was from me, you will make me
proud." "The proud three!"

        They all walked out of the back room and the boys picked up their
dirty street clothes. "What should we do with these, sir?" asked Davie.

"Burn them if you want. You will not need them on the ironclads. Any
soldier caught out of uniform in enemy territory is considered a spy and is
usually shot on the spot."

         The three boys took their street clothes over to the wood stove and
opened the door and threw them into the flames. Then they stepped back;
they just took their first step of their new adventure.

        Liam slapped the boys on their backs. "Come on, my boyos, let's head
home for a hot supper and some hot baths."
 

        Liam led them into the large room and up to a large desk. "Sergeant
Walker, have my carriage waiting outside at the door. I am leaving early
today."

        "Yes sir, Quartermaster O'Conell!"

        "Private Adams, prepare Quartermaster O'Conell's carriage for his
early departure."

        "Yes sir, Sergeant Walker." The private saluted and headed out to
perform his duties.

        The three boys walked around the large crowded room. The men
enlisting stared at the boys, some with admiring eyes, others with scorn at
their young ages. Soon the private returned inside and saluted, "Your
carriage is ready, sir!"

        "Thank you, private. Lads, follow me."

        The three boys stepped in line behind Liam and followed him out the
door of the rear section of the building onto the street and walked to the
waiting carriage. The servant stood, dressed in a heavy black jacket and dark
brown trousers, holding the door open. Liam stepped inside, followed by John
and Ernest, finally Davie. Once the passengers were inside and seated, the
servant closed the door. Liam and Ernest sat in one seat while John and
Davie sat facing them on the other.

        The big carriage pulled away from the recruitment office and turned
north on the brick lined street. The two big bays eased down the street in a
fast trot while Liam and the three boys passed the time in quiet talk.

        The driver dodged all the heavy traffic, from grain wagons to foot
traffic, with ease. The center section of Chicago had nice paved streets of
brick while the outlying areas were still unpaved. During the summer they
were dust and in winter rivers of mud. The wooden wheels made loud clacking sounds as
the carriage passed over the brick paving stones as it traveled north to Michigan Avenue
and the O'Conell estate. In later years Michigan Avenue would become host to the fine
homes of the Crowns, Vanderbilts, Pullman, and others. Now it was just beginning to
grow, like the rest of the once frontier town.

        Davie, John, and Ernest all stared out the carriage windows, looking
at the landmarks they all knew by heart, but this was the first time any of them had seen
them while riding down the street and not walking. Davie and John huddled close
together in the chilly carriage. At least the windows kept out the cold north wind that was
beginning to howl outside. The carriage turned and entered Michigan Avenue and began
to slow. "Not far now, my lads,"
said Liam.

        John and Ernest were amazed at the fine houses being built or the
nice ones already occupied by some of the finer families of the booming city.

        The servant led the carriage through a set of wrought iron gates
set into granite gate posts, with lit lanterns perched on top. All three boys
gasped at this sight. Liam noticed and smiled, 'Just wait until they see the house of this
Irisher.'

        Yes, he was one of the lucky ones growing up, and still was in many
ways. His father Patrick and mother both were well off in Ireland and
brought most of their wealth to the States when they left as new trouble was
beginning to brew on the old sod. They settled first in Boston, then moved
west to Chicago, where he was raised for the last years of his youth and it
was here that his father struck his new fortune by investing in lumber and
grain and the newly formed Central Railroad project. He shared the family
house with both his wife and daughter and his parents; the house was large
enough for both families now, and right now it was empty. His parents were
on a trip back to Ireland and had invited his wife and daughter to join
them. So here he was, taking three boys home and there was no one to bother them.

        The carriage swung around the arch in the drive, past the formal
gardens and fountain leading up to the main house, sitting on a slight hill
in the center of the 5 blocks owned by the O'Conells. The servant eased the
big bays to a halt in front of the three story granite and brick house. Liam
heard the gasps from the three boys as they first set eyes upon the largest
house they had ever seen.

        The servant climbed down and opened the carriage door closest to the
front door of the mansion. "Thank you, Joe."

        "My pleasure, Mr. O'Conell," replied the small man with graying hair
and short mustache. Joe stood 5 foot 5 and walked with a limp; he lost the
lower part of his left leg in an Indian engagement during the Black Hawk
Wars during the time Chicago was known as Fort Dearborn. Joe loved Patrick and Liam;
they treated him with the same respect as a good friend and not their carriage driver or
hired white servant like many of the finer families treated their man servants.

        "Follow me, lads." Liam gestured toward the front landing of the
house with his right hand as he spoke.

        The three lads, with their eyeballs trying to pop out of their sockets, fell in step
behind Liam and walked up to the massive house and entered. The three boys did not
know what to do when the light from the massive cut crystal chandeliers shone down on
their dirty faces in their clean blue uniforms. They looked around the entrance hall, dazed
with the finery that surrounded them.

        "Well, come on, my lads, no need to stand in the hallway all afternoon." Liam
laughed when the boys jumped, knocked out of their daydreams by his words. The three
boys followed Liam into the main living area of the house. It was huge compared to the
shanties they lived in. The whole two-room
shanty of Davie's parents could have fit in half of the living area. There
were smaller rooms behind closed doors leading off from the main room and they could
see the massive dining hall through the open French doors. "Well, lads, have a seat." The
three boys sat down on the large horsehair sofa and Liam eased himself into an
overstuffed chair and pulled a Cuban cigar from
inside his uniform jacket. The oak wood crackled in the large hearth as the flames heated
the room.

        Davie felt a light trickle of sweat beginning to form on his forehead
and used a sleeve to wipe his face. Liam noticed it; he seemed to notice the
uneasiness of the three lads sitting closely together on the large sofa.
Liam stood and walked over the crackling fire and stirred it with an iron poker, then
removed a long slender stick from a holder and stuck the tip to the flames until it lit. He
brought the flame up to the tip of his cigar and lit it. The end glowed a bright red as the
tobacco lit. He turned and faced the boys once more as he unbuttoned his heavy blue
overcoat. Liam pulled the overcoat off, revealing the royal blue woolen undershirt.

        "Laddies, pull off those uniform top coats. The house is plenty warm. I had a private
ride over this afternoon and inform the servants to light the
upper fireplaces and have the cook to prepare us a hearty meal of beefsteak
and potatoes for supper. I also took the liberty to dispatch a letter to
your parents, Davie, so they would not worry about you when you do not return
home after the city is cloaked in darkness. I do believe there is a storm
brewing out tonight, the way the wind is howling like a dying Brit."

        The three boys laughed at the comment about the Brit. They were all
Irish and knew the old joke from listening to their parents. They began to
unbutton the heavy brass buttons on their jackets when Davie realized they
were not wearing any undershirts beneath like Liam was.

        "Umm, sir, we do not have anything on beneath our top jackets. We
dressed so fast we did not take the time to get them from our bags. I guess
we really were in a hurry to get out of that damned room after what that
mad doctor tried to do to me, sir." Davie blushed, then added, "I am sorry, sir, for cursing
in your home. Forgive me, sir."

        Liam was both proud and impressed with Davie's manners. "Davie, my boy, it is fine
and, please, it is Liam around friends and messmates. I may be older and have a high rank
but among friends we are equals. Also, my
boyos, I do not mind the chance to look at such fine lads shirtless. Yes, my
lads, I am married with a fine wife and sweet lass who are now traveling
around the old sod with my parents. As a young lad myself I dreamed of the
other lads at school and while riding with my father."

        Davie blushed, "Thank you, sir. Umm, Liam." And he smiled.

        "Well, come on, lads, let's go eat our supper before it gets cold. Then I will lead the
three of you upstairs to your sleeping quarters so you boys can wash up and retire. After
the meal you all will need the rest. After a restful sleep in a real feather bed and a hearty
breakfast, I will put you three on a southbound Illinois Central train for Cairo and your
boat, the USS BENTON."

        Davie, John, and Ernest followed Liam into the dining room. Liam
draped his jacket over a chair and the three boys left theirs on but did not
bother to rebutton them. They knew they had a friend in Liam. Davie also
knew deep down Liam loved lads as much as he loved his wife and lass Katie. Yes, she
was a beautiful young lady who would make the right man a wonderful wife someday.
One more personal battle. Who was he? Who did he love more, lasses or lads? Would he
survive the war whole enough to find out who he would love in the end?

        As they entered the dining room, the smells of the food assaulted them. Hot beef and
potatoes steaming in a broth of carrots, peas, and corn. The fresh baked loaf of white
bread with a golden brown crust on top, fresh butter dripping down the sides onto the
heavy plate which it sat upon. China plates were placed at one end of the long table that
could seat twelve people easy. Tall stemmed glasses, two at each plate setting, filled with
both water and a dark brown liquid, once Davie took his seat to the right of Liam, who sat
at the head of the table. John sat on Davie's right and Ernest to Liam's left.

        Davie knew the smell of the dark brown liquid once he was close to
the glass of aged brandy.

        "Lads, please let us bow our heads in prayer to our Master for this
food and a quick end to this dreadful war and to the safe keeping of my
sister in New Orleans and her family."

        Everyone bowed their heads and closed their eyes as Liam recited a
traditional Irish prayer they all knew by heart and at the end they all
joined in. "Amen."

        Ernest and John looked over toward Davie as Liam dished the steaming stew into
the heavy bowls, filling each one to the rim.

        "Davie, please pass the bread."

        Davie first passed the plate to John and he removed two slices of the
soft bread. Then Davie removed two as he passed it to Liam and Ernest. The
plate was then returned to its place on the table.

        "Boys, dig in." Liam picked up his silver spoon and dipped it into the stew, scooping
a portion on it and bringing it to his lips and placed it into his mouth. Liam nodded with
satisfaction, then they all began to eat.  Liam once again impressed with the manners of
the three boys to remember the old ways of the homeland which they came from of
letting the master of the table take the first bite of food before joining in. Liam felt mixed
emotions inside, the pride of meeting these fine lads and the loathing of sending them off
to war and the possibility of them never returning.

        The three boys dug into the hot stew and soft bread. Liam watched the
boys in quiet satisfaction as the food was not chewed but inhaled. Very
little was said as the four males ate their meal, Liam watching with satisfaction of feeding
these growing boys a hearty meal before the long two day ride by train to Cairo.

        The boys stood and stretched and asked Liam to thank the cook for
the wonderful meal. Out of the large supper only bread crumbs and a very
light broth was left of it. Liam had drunk his usual four glasses of brandy.
Davie downed two himself and felt the liquor hit him as he stood.

        John and Ernest both drank one glass out of respect, then stuck with
chilled ice water for the rest of the meal. Davie walked out of the dining
room with John and Ernest on his heels like two young puppies. He walked
back into the living room and looked at the brilliant oil paintings of the
family. A large one hung over the fireplace mantle; it showed Patrick and his
wife and a young boy of about thirteen years old with bright red hair. In
the background a large Irish manor house stood on a green grassy hill,
surrounded by fields.

        Liam quietly walked into the room. "That is my mother and father and
me back in Ireland. Father wanted it done to remind him of his homeland
while he made his new life in his new land. I was twelve years old when that
was painted on that spring day so long ago. That was two years before my
sister was born, the one who now lives in New Orleans. I know what you
boys are wondering, why is my sister in the deep South when there is a war
going on? Well, the answer is simple, she fell in love with a German lad
named Otto Davis. They were married in '55. Otto works for the New Orleans,
Jackson, and Great Northern Railroad. In 1860 they had a son and named him
Samuel. I have not heard anything from them since the outbreak of the war.
All I can do is pray for their safety. Otto does not believe in slavery nor
does my sister Mary. They fell in love with the city and the South and so they stayed. I do
not hold anything against them for living in the South during this time. Otto said he
would never take up arms against the Union. I met him at their wedding and he is a noble
person and true to his word. Here Liam led three boys over to a small corner table where
a gas lamp burned brightly. He picked up a tinplate photograph showing a smiling young
couple. Davie could tell the young man had blonde hair that was long and straight and
the bride in her white dress had red hair; the photographer had hand tinted the photo to
give it subtle color. He could also make out in the background St. Mary, the name of the
church.

        "Come on, lads, enough of my ramblings of my past. Time for me to
lead you upstairs so you can wash up and get a restful sleep after today's
events." The three nodded in agreement as they walked over to where they
had placed their bags and retrieved them. Liam led them to the wide carpeted stairs and
they began to climb, looking at paintings from the past. Heroic naval battles to one of
Napoleon astride his war horse. There was even one of George Washington and Lafayette
saluting each other after the surrender of Yorktown. They climbed to the second floor
landing and walked down a long hallway, gas lamps hissed as they burned, lighting the
hall. They passed closed double doors of the master bedroom and down to a room where
the heavy door was open. Liam led them in. A large full four post bed was in the center
and small tables flanked both sides. On the far wall, shelves of books lined it from top to
bottom and gas lamps hung on the wall by the door. An oil lamp stood on a center table.
A rich maroon carpet covered the floor.

        "Well, lads, here is your room for the night. I am sure you do not mind sleeping with
each other for company."

        Davie answered for all of them. "No sir, we don't mind at all. It will be nice to sleep
in a real bed for once and not just a pallet on the cold floor."

"Very good, my lads, the water closet is at the end of the hall. Come on, I will show you
how to draw the tub full of water."

        The boys followed Liam a short distance down the hall and to a room
on the corner. "Well, here we are," and he opened the door. It was dark in the room until
Liam turned a small brass wheel on the gas lamp located near the door. The lamp
sputtered and the smell of gas became stronger as the gas
began to burn brighter and light the room. The room was about the size of a
normal bedroom, tiles lined the floor, alternating between black and white.
The large zinc tub sat in the middle with a wooden platform built around it
and steps leading to the rim. A small hand pump was located at one end of
it. The boys had seen pumps like this all their life but this was the first time they had seen
one inside a house. A Franklin stove sat in the corner, the flames bright against the thick
glass in the doors. A small wooden box held a supply of pine knots and coal near the
stove, a brass bar ran along the wall, and towels were hung there to stay warm.  The boys
could not believe they were seeing this with their own eyes; they were awestruck.

        Liam clapped Ernest on the back. "Well, let me show you how it works. It is very
simple and another one of my father's ideas. Most people think we are crazy for wanting
to take a bath every day, but father believes cleanness is holiness."

        "The hand pump brings cold water from the well located out back of
the main house. The hot water comes from the Franklin stove in the corner.
You see the small brass wheel on the side of the stove that opens the water
reservoir? Each side has a wheel and each holds 30 gallons of hot water. This
stove is very common. Most people cook on them but father had this one
changed to just heat water. The metal bucket is behind the stove; it holds 2
gallons but I would not fill it all the way full or you might burn yourself
and I do not want that to happen or I might have to call Doctor Watson to come patch you
up!"

        The three boys gasped at the mention of the doctor's name and spun
to look at Liam, who had a big grin on his face. "I was joking, lads, about
the doctor but not about being burned, so be careful. My bedroom is right
across the hall so if you need me don't hesitate to call for me. When you finish drying off,
hang the towels back up and the maid will get them to wash in the morning. "You may
sleep however you wish as I will be the one knocking
on your door in the morning. I am going to retire to my chamber to do some
reading. I greatly enjoy Hawthorn’s works."

        The three boys thanked Liam and wished him a pleasant night.

        "So, Davie, we going to bathe separate or together to save water?"
asked John. "Well, I figured we could bathe together, no need in using all the hot water
since I have no idea how you fill that damned thing up. All I ever fooled with was a pot
belly wood stove."

        The two brothers nodded in agreement. "Same here, Davie, we only
seen the cooking stoves and they ain't that big."

        Davie walked over and picked up the metal bucket from behind the
stove. "John, work the lever on the pump and see if we need to prime it."

        "OK, Davie", John walked up the steps and grabbed the handle and
began to work it up and down. It made a sluicing sound, then a stream of ice
cold water began to pour in the tub. "Shit, that is cold," then blushed
crimson. Davie had not heard him or his brother use much foul language since they met
that afternoon.

        Davie laughed at John. "It is ok, my little friend, we all use those words at times and
you're kinda cute when you blush so red like that."

        Ernest fell in the floor laughing when he saw John turn even a brighter crimson.
John splashed a little water on Ernest and watched his face turn from laughing to shock.
"Damn, brother, you're right, that water is cold. Good thing this room is nice and warm."

        "Davie, hurry up with that hot water, will ya." shouted John.

        "Keep your britches on, will ya! I am trying to find something to open this tap
without burning my hand."

        "Take your coat off and use it to turn the tap on. It's not like you have nothing to
hide, we seen it all." John giggled.

        "Fine, I will then." Davie pulled his jacket off and used it to turn the hot brass wheel
and loosen it. The hot water began to run out in a small stream, steam rising from the
stream as it ran into the bucket." When the bucket was half full he carried it over to the
tub, using the wooden handle attached to the metal bail. He poured the hot water into the
cold water and returned to the stove. This time he reached down with his bare hand and
turned the brass wheel, not too hot for just the few seconds his fingertips made contact.
Davie carried this bucket full and poured it in. "John, stop the cold water about half full,
ok."

        "OK, Davie, will do. Ernest, why don't you remove your shoes and
then pull off mine. No need to wear them and mine is getting wet."

        "OK, John," Ernest bent down and pulled off his shoes and socks, then
walked over to where his brother was sitting and removed his. John also
handed Ernest his jacket. "Here, do the same with all three jackets, put them
over there for now," pointing to a small wood table in the corner, "that way
they don't get wet."

        Davie soon had enough hot water in the tub to balance it with the cold. A haze of
steam drifted from the water as John and Ernest began to strip out of their jackets and
trousers. Davie watched the two brothers as they stripped, feeling his member grow hard
in his trousers. 'Those two boys, I will love running my fingers over every inch of their
bodies,' Davie thought as he unbuttoned his trousers and kicked off his shoes and socks.
Then he pulled off his blue trousers and his manhood sprang free.

        John was watching out of the corner of his eye. "Wow, Ernest, look at
the size of Davie's snake." Davie turned crimson as he listened to John's
words. Then he realized it was a compliment. Davie then smiled and looked
over at the two staring brothers. "You two get in the damned tub and quit
staring at something you both have." Davie laughed as both boys scrambled
to get into the zinc tub. Davie followed right on their heels. John, Ernest,
and Davie all got into the big tub but they had little room to spare. Each boy sat between
the others' spread legs. Davie picked up a sponge and began to wash John's back with the
hot water. He jumped a little at the first touch of Davie's hands on his back. Then John
really began to enjoy the feelings of
another boy's hands on his naked body. John felt his boyhood begin to stiffen
with each touch of Davie's hands. Davie scrubbed John's back, feeling the
smooth, hot boy flesh beneath his fingers. Soon John was beginning to breathe
harder as Davie continued. Ernest looked back and saw what was going on and for a
minute felt left out. John saw the hurt expression in his brother's eyes and knew what was
going through his head.

        "Turn around, Ernest." John picked up a sponge and began to wash
and scrub his brother's smooth back in slow movements. Davie smiled, 'how
thoughtful of John.' The three boys continued to wash each other's backs and
Davie poured some water over John's head to wet his dark brown hair, then
he picked up the soap and began to scrub some into the thick hair. John
moaned as he felt the magic fingers go to work on his scalp and hair, washing
away the dirt and grime to make it shine again. John copied Davie and began
to wash his brother's hair and it was lighter brown hair. Ernest was enjoying
the same treatment of his younger brother. Then they both realized that no one was giving
Davie the same treatment. Ernest whispered this into John's ear, hoping Davie would not
overhear his plan. John nodded in agreement,
leaving Davie with a puzzled look on his face. Davie washed the soap from
John's wet hair and soon John finished doing Ernest's hair.

        John felt Davie's hard cock pressing against his behind. At first he did not know
what to make of it. Then he realized it felt pretty good, it was
soft and smooth and, when he moved, it slid along his upper buttocks. Ernest and John
both had scrubbed their genital areas clean and their chests and
stomachs while Davie washed John's back. John washed his front side with
his free hand as he worked on his older brother with his other hand. Ernest
stood up and stepped out of the big tub and John followed. Davie expected
to see them walk over to the towel rack and begin to dry off. The two
brothers instead leaned back over the tub and John took the sponge Davie
held in his hand and began to soap it back up. Ernest motioned for Davie to
slide further down into the water and relax. Davie did after a funny
expression and a little coaxing from John. Davie slid deeper into the tub
and felt his tired muscles relax; he stopped when the hot water was lapping at his chin.
The brothers began to work their magic on Davie, one set of hands soaping up his lower
legs and feet while the other set soaped up his stomach and chest. Never did he realize a
bath could feel so damned good. Davie lay there with his eyes closed and so relaxed he
doubted he could stand up if he needed to at that moment.

        John smiled at his brother and nodded toward Davie's groin where
his cock was rock hard and sticking up like a flagpole of a sunken ship.
Ernest winked and nodded back at John and pointed down to John's groin
where his own boyhood pointed out from his stomach. John grinned at his
brother because Ernest was sporting one also.

        Conflicting emotions should have been running through these
brothers' minds. Their parents taught them that even playing with them was
a damnable sin but John and Ernest's parents were dead. They had been dead for three
long years, killed in a train derailment on one of the pioneer railroads that entered
Chicago from the west, the Northern Cross Line. The brothers were now wards of the
state and they learned more than they needed to know to survive on the streets and what
the other older boys did after the lamps were put out for the night.

        So now all those religious teachings by a set of parents who never
really loved their sons did not even come to light as they scrubbed the dirt
and grime away off their new friend. They knew Davie trusted them as he lay there so
relaxed, his manhood standing tall out of the water and, more
importantly, they trusted him. They never really made friends at the
orphanage because they knew trust was just words and never actions.

        This afternoon they learned about trust and friendship from this red
haired lad and a man named Liam O'Conell. John and Ernest also were learning that love
came in many forms and here lay one before them in the tub as their youthful hands
roamed the smooth flesh and tight muscles that were now like jelly, relaxed and
unburdened for the first time in who knew how long. These boys were repaying Davie for
something that they only dreamed of for the last three years, a true friend. Now they were
going to set out for adventure tomorrow as a band of brothers. A bond of blood between
two, a stronger bond of friendship between the three of them. Both brothers had the same
thought at the same time, 'How many others had found such a friendship like this one?'

        The brothers continued to scrub and wash Davie. John was now washing Davie's red
hair. John did not realize how red it was until the dirt began to soften and wash out. Now
it was beginning to shine like Liam's, a beautiful bright red. Ernest had just reached
Davie's groin and did not know if he should continue or not. Ernest had never touched a
penis before except his own. He wanted to but was scared, what if Davie did not like it?
Ernest paused for a moment and looked up at John and Davie. Davie still lay with his
eyes closed, enjoying the treatment he was receiving from the brothers. Ernest held the
sponge and pointed to Davie's erect penis. John nodded for his brother to continue. Ernest
moved up a little closer to Davie's middle on the outside of the big tub, then leaned over
and began to lightly rub Davie's upper legs and thighs and sides with the sponge but
letting the tips of his fingers feel Davie's flesh. Ernest did not realize one could keep a
hard on for such a long time but his member was still rock hard from just rubbing his
hands on Davie as he cleaned. Ernest took the plunge and brushed the tip of the wet
sponge across the top of Davie's pubic area, running it through the red hair. Davie bucked
up a little, then settled back down. Ernest continued, then lower until he reached the base
of Davie's cock and he washed it, then he ran the sponge up it. Davie let out a loud moan
but did not say a thing against Ernest's actions. Ernest took this as a sign to continue.
John had finished washing Davie's hair and now was watching his older brother wash the
hard penis of Davie. Then he too got a idea; he moved to Davie's side and started to rub
Davie's chest with his bare hands. Davie opened his eyes and John stopped and tried to
step back from the tub but Davie's strong hands stopped him and he took John's hands
and placed them back on his chest for him to continue.

        "You two really know how to make a lad feel good."

        John blushed and Ernest wanted to pull back and stop from
embarassment. Once again Davie took control and grabbed Ernest's hand and removed
the sponge and placed it back on his hard member.

        "Wow, you don't mind us feeling your body, Davie?" asked Ernest.

        "Not when it feels this good. I see both of you are enjoying this as
much as I am."

        Both brothers blushed.

        "Damn, you two are so cute when you do that." Davie smiled at them.
"John, why don't you step around to the other side of the tub." John looked
funny for a moment, then he stepped down from the small wood platform and
walked around to the other side. Davie took John's hands and pulled him
closer and then placed them back on his chest. John then realized where his
penis was, almost touching Davie's body and he got ready to move it away
until Davie reached and grabbed it in his hand and slowly began to pump it.
John moaned deep as Davie took his penis in his hand and began to stroke it.
Ernest continued to stroke Davie's cock and Davie knew he would not last
much longer before he shot his white cream out of the tip.

        "Ernest, you might want to stop now."

        "Why, Davie, am I hurting it?"

        "No, you're not hurting it, just the opposite, it feels grand but if you continue doing
what you're doing I am going to shoot white stuff out the end and all over you."

        "Ahh, you're going to pop your willy, huh?"

        "Is that what you call it?"

        "Well, that is what all the older boys called it."

        Ernest smiled then, "I want to help you pop your willy," and
smiled broader.

        John slowly pulled back from Davie and moved closer to Davie's hard
penis. He then reached out and placed one of his hands around his brother's
and they both worked the skin up and down the shaft. Davie began to moan
louder and soon he arched his back up and screamed, "Oh my Lord," and
erupted all over the two brothers' hands. The two brothers smiled at each
other and Davie, then quickly began to wash the white cream off of Davie
and their hands.

        "OK, you two go over there and start drying off in case Liam heard. I
do not want him to think we were doing what we were doing in his tub room."

        The two brothers raced over and grabbed the warm towels and began
to rub them over their mostly dry bodies and through their clean hair. Davie
climbed out of the tub and joined them and dried himself but let the brothers dry his back
and hair for him. They re-hung the towels on the rack and
gathered their uniforms and shoes and Davie turned the little brass wheel on
the lamp like Liam did to turn down the jet of gas going to the lamp. They
walked down to their room. As they passed Liam's closed door they all
noticed the light shining below the door and they wished him a good night.

        Liam told the boys good night and he laid the book on the table beside his bed and
turned down the jet to his lamp. He wasn't reading but he heard the scream and he knew
what brought it on and he smiled as he remembered the first time another lad had done
the same for him.

        Davie, Ernest, and John entered their room and placed their uniforms
on the table and they climbed into the big bed naked, clean, and refreshed.
The two brothers insisted on Davie sleeping in the middle and he agreed to.
He did not know why they wanted him in the middle until the two brothers
joined him on both sides and snuggled close to him.

        "Good night, little brother," said Ernest.

        "Good night, big brother," said John.

        Then together, "Good night, Big Brother," and they kissed Davie on the cheeks.

        "Good night, my little ones." And Davie wrapped his arms around his
new brothers and they drifted off into sleep and their dreams of what lay
ahead.

        In the other bedroom Liam also was sleeping, dreaming of the past
and of the lad he shared his grandest summer of his youth with before coming to
America. There was peace this night as they dreamed while the war continued on.

 * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

I am sorry it took so long with this chapter, my readers. I hope you enjoy
the newest adventures of our friends. I have been having some adventures of my own,
including a trip out of state with a great friend and some other
adventures on the Railroad where I work.

I would like to thank Ed for his help with this chapter.

I would also like to thank Willy B. and Chris for their support and to all
my readers who have stuck with me.

Please E-Mail me your comments. I love hearing from you, it gives me the
will to continue to spin these tales. Swarri1349@aol.com

May the circle of friendship never be broken between me and my special
brother. Saint Patrick, look down and protect my Brother Brent, for without
him I would not be whole.

Stephen