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

"A story of the civil war's eve"

I suppose they sing it in anticipation, meaning
that they will soon be in the heart of Dixie, which is the South,
our South."
"I don't think those baggy red legs will ever march far into our South,"
whispered Harry defiantly.
"It is to be seen. Between you and me, Harry, I'm convinced there is no
triumphant progress ahead for either North or South. Ah, another force
is coming and it's cavalry! Don't you hear the hoof-beats, Harry?"
Harry heard them distinctly and he and his comrade lay more closely than
ever in the bushes, because the horsemen, a numerous body, as the heavy
tread indicated, were passing very near. The two lads presently saw
them riding four abreast toward the campfire, and Harry surmised that
they had been scouting in strong force toward the Southern front.
They were large men, deep with tan and riding easily. Harry judged
their number at two hundred, and the tail of the company would pass
alarmingly near the bushes in which his comrade and he lay.
"Don't you think we'd better creep back?" he whispered to St. Clair.
"Some of them taking a short cut may ride right upon us."
"Yes, it's time to make ourselves scarce."
They turned back, going as rapidly as they dared, but that which Harry
had feared came to pass.


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