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

"A Story of the Western Crisis"


But he had not been hurt, and in a few seconds his pulse beat steadily.
He heard a shout of laughter as he stood, brushing the fresh dirt from
his clothing. He glanced up in some anger, but he saw at once that the
arrival of the shell had been most fortunate for his plan. To come near
annihilation by a Federal gun certainly invested him with a Confederate
character.
It was a group of young soldiers who were laughing and their amusement
was entirely good-natured. They would have laughed the same way had the
harmless adventure befallen one of their own number. Dick judged that
they were from the Southwest.
"Close call," he said, smiling that attractive smile, which was visible
even in the twilight.
"It was a friendly shell," said one of the youths, "and it concluded
not to come too close to you. These Yankee shells are so loving that
sometimes they spray themselves in little pieces all over a fellow,
like a shower of rice over a bride at a wedding."
"How long do you think the Yankees will keep it up?" asked Dick, putting
indignation in his tone.


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