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Altsheler, Joseph A. (Joseph Alexander), 1862-1919

"A story of the civil war's eve"

' But he reaches away out from
the raft, grabs you with one hand by them brown locks o' yours, an'
hauls you in. I guess you owe your life all right enough to this
lunkhead, Ike, my nephew, the son o' my sister Jane."
Ike grinned sympathetically.
"Ain't it time to offer him some dry clothes, Uncle Sam?" he asked.
"Past time, I reckon," replied Jarvis, "but I forgot it askin' questions,
me havin' such an inquirin' turn o' mind."
Harry rose, with the help of a strong and friendly hand that Jarvis lent
him. His chest felt dreadfully sore. Every breath pained him, and all
the strength seemed to have gone from his body.
"I don't know what became o' the other feller," said Jarvis. "Guess he
must have swum out all by hisself."
"He undoubtedly did so," replied Harry. "He wasn't hurt, and I fancy
that he's some distance from Frankfort by this time. My name is Kenton,
Harry Kenton, and I'm the son of Colonel George Kenton, who is here in
Frankfort helping to push the ordinance of secession. You've saved my
life and he'd repay you."
"We don't need no money," said Jarvis shortly. "Me an' Ike here will
have a lot of money when we sell this raft, and we don't lack for
nothin'.


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