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

"A Story of the Western Crisis"

What's more, they've succeeded so far. I don't
hesitate to talk to you in this way, Dick, but you mustn't repeat what I
say."
"I shouldn't dream of doing so, sir."
"I know you would not, but General Thomas apprehends a tremendous and
terrible attack. Whatever happens, we have not long to wait for it.
I think I feel the touch of the dawn in the wind."
"It's coming, sir. I can see a faint tinge of gray in that cleft between
the hills toward the east."
"You have a good eye, Dick. I see it now, too. It's growing and
turning to the color of silver. But I think we'll have time to get our
breakfasts. General Thomas does not believe the first attack will be
made upon our wing."
The wind was freshening, as if it brought the dawn upon its edge.
The night had been uncommonly cold for the time of the year in that
latitude, and there was no sun yet to give warmth. But the men of Thomas
were being awakened, and, as no fires were allowed, cold food was served
to them.
"What's happened, Dick, while I was asleep?" asked Pennington.
"Nothing. The two armies are ready, and I think to-day will decide it.


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