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

"A Story of the Western Crisis"

They're our men sure. Look at this old canteen
that one of 'em has thrown away. It's the kind they make in the North.
He ought to have been punished for leaving such a sign."
"I judge, Sergeant, from the looks of this road, that they can't now be
more than a mile away."
"Less than that, Mr. Mason. When we reach the top of the hill yonder I
think we'll see 'em."
The sergeant's judgment was vindicated again. From the crest they saw a
numerous body of muddy horsemen riding slowly ahead. Only the brilliant
sunlight made their uniforms distinguishable, but they were, beyond a
doubt, the troops of the Union. Dick uttered a little cry of joy and the
sergeant's face glowed.
"We've found 'em," said the sergeant.
"And soon we ride," said Dick.
They hurried forward, shouted and waved their rifles.
The column stopped, and two men, one of whom was Colonel Hertford himself,
rode back, looking curiously at the haggard and stained faces of the two
who walked forward, still swinging their rifles.
"Colonel Hertford," said Dick joyfully, "we've come with a message for
you from General Grant.


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