Next day Jack and Frank, Running Elk having departed for a visit to the lodges of his people, took horse and rode to Nashville, and went at once to General Jackson’s house. They found him upon a sunny porch in the midst of a committee which had been appointed to offer him the command of the volunteers. He was a long thin man with large bones and a frame of great natural strength. His face was long and gaunt at the best of times, but just now it was haggard from the effects of his wound, and bloodless in color. He lay back in a big chair supported by pillows, and talked to the committee in a low voice. Frank Lawrence gave one look at the drawn, white face and gaunt frame and whispered to his friend: “I say, do they really mean to offer this man command of an army? He looks to be dying.” Jack nodded his head and answered in the same low voice: “Maybe so. But that won’t make much difference to the general. Anything he sets himself to do, he does; and if he makes up his mind to lead the expedition against the Creeks, he’ll do it, no matter what his condition is.” Frank, as they stood apart, waiting, looked with much interest at the sick man. He saw a great mop of stubborn hair standing straight up from his head; he saw the powerful jaw and the thin nose of the warrior. But above all he saw the eyes, fiery, indomitable, the eyes of one to whom death meant nothing, but to whom submission was unthinkable. Andrew Jackson was at this period about forty years of age. He was of Irish ancestry and had been born on the border of the southwest territory. He had been a lawyer, judge, storekeeper, farmer and United States Senator. At this time he was practicing law, farming his place, the Hermitage, and acting as general of the Tennessee militia. “What authority have you to offer me the leadership of this body of men?” asked Jackson from the depths of his chair. “The right of citizens of Tennessee, gathered in public conference,” said the spokesman of the committee. “We cannot wait for formal action by the state or national governments; it might be fatal to do so. Even now these red fiends may be gathering for a blow at our frontier.” The deep-set eyes of the sick man glowed; apparently this was the sort of spirit of which he altogether approved. “Right!” said he in a voice filled with sudden deep strength. “To prepare quickly is the only way.” “And you will accept?” asked another of the committee, eagerly. “My wound is bad,” said Jackson, “and I shall be of less service than I should be otherwise. But, still, I will march. And if the general government will only keep hands off,” grimly, “we shall in the end have peace in Israel.” After the committee, much elated by their success, had departed, Jack and Frank were brought to the notice of the general. “Oh, yes,” said he, holding out one gaunt hand to Jack, “I recall you. How is your father?” “Quite well.” Then presenting Frank, he added: “This is my friend from Virginia, Frank Lawrence.”