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

"A story of the civil war's eve"

He did not know when he would come back,
but if it should be a long time they must not forget him.
"A long time?" said St. Clair. "A long time, Harry, means that you've
got a dangerous mission. We'll wish you safely through it, old fellow."
"And don't forget the charm!" exclaimed Langdon. "Of course I don't
believe in such foolishness, I wouldn't think of it for a minute, but,
anyway, they don't do any harm. Good-bye and God bless you, Harry."
"The same from me, Harry," said St. Clair.
The strong grip of their hands still thrilled his blood as he rode away.
His pass carried him through the Southern lines, and then he went toward
the northwest, intending to pass through the hills, and reach the rear
of the Northern force. He carried no rifle, and his gray uniform,
somewhat faded now, would not attract distant attention. Still, he did
not care to be observed even by non-combatants, and he turned his horse
into the first stretch of forest that he could reach.
Harry, being young, felt the full importance of his errand, but it was
vague in its nature. He was to follow his own judgment and discover
what was going on between the Northern army and Washington, no very
great distance.


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