After they were seated together in the Fort and were more composed, they began talking about how they should tell the parents of the comrades who had died in the mountains. One said, "I can never tell them," and the other said, "We must, for they will have to be told, and who else will do it?" They now turned to me and asked if I would take them to Denver, and what I would charge them for doing it. I said, "Boys, I will take you to Denver, and when we get there you can pay me whatever you can afford to pay, be it much or little." So it was decided that we should leave the Fort in the morning, and, as we were nearly ready to start, the man who had brought the news and had remained at the Fort while I went to find his comrades asked Col. Bent how much his bill would be for the time he had staid there. Col. Bent said, "You do not owe me a cent," and taking a twenty-dollar gold piece from his pocket, the Colonel handed it to one of the men, saying as he did so, "But you can give this to Mr. Drannan, for he is the one that deserves this and more for what he has done." We mounted our horses and left the Fort and struck the trail for Denver. Nothing occurred to impede our journey, and we arrived at Denver on the third day after we left Fort Bent. We camped on Cherry Creek on the edge of town. I said: "Now, boys, I will take care of the horses and cook supper, and you two can strike out and see if you can find your folks, and if you have not found them by dark, come back here and get your supper and stay with me tonight." They had not been gone more than half an hour when I saw them coming back, and an elderly man and woman and a young lady were with them. When they came to me, the man whom I had found unconscious in the mountains said: "Father and mother, this is the man who sought and found me and saved my life." The father took my hand, and, in a voice that trembled with emotion, said, "I can never thank you enough for what you have done for my boy and his mother and me, for he is our only son, and I think our hearts would have broken if he had shared the sad fate of his two comrades." The mother gave me her hand without speaking, but her tear-stained face and smiling lips thanked me more than words could have done. The young girl, whom the elder man presented as his daughter, thanked me in a sweet voice for bringing her brother back to them, and when all got through, I felt almost overpowered with their gratitude. They insisted on my going home with them to stay all night, which I did, and the next morning I had the pleasure of meeting the father and mother and two brothers of the other man. After I had talked with them all a while, one of the young men asked me what they should pay me for all the trouble I had taken upon myself in their cause.