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

"A story of the civil war's eve"


"It's too much," he said. "Besides you take your turn at the oars."
"It's partly as a souvenir," said Harry, "and it would hurt my father
very much if you did not take it. Besides, I should have to leave the
boat the first time it tied up, if you refuse."
Jarvis looked humorously at him.
"I believe you are a stubborn sort of feller," he said, "but somehow
I've took a kind o' likin' to you. I s'pose it's because I fished you
out o' the river. You always think that the fish you ketch yourself are
the best. Do you reckon that's the reason why we like him, Ike?"
Ike nodded.
"Then, bein' as we don't want to lose your company, an' seein' that you
mean what you say, we'll keep the gold, though half of it must go to
that lunkhead, Ike, my nephew."
"Then it's settled," said Harry, "and we'll never say another word about
it. You agree to that?"
"Yes," replied Jarvis, and Ike nodded.
Harry took his place at the oar. Although he was not as skillful as Ike,
he did well, and the boat sped on upon the deep bosom of the Kentucky.
The work was good for Harry. It made his blood flow once more in a full
tide and he felt a distinct elation.
Jarvis began singing again.


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