MY LADY OF THE SOUTH
troopers. The first two rounding the house corner saw us, but, before they could throw forward their carbines, we had plunged into the shadow of the vines, running recklessly. A shot or two, fired without aim, only served to increase our pace, our only hope being to cross the orchard before others attained the rear of the house. Beyond that point the weeds offered concealment.
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