Page:War; or, What happens when one loves one's enemy, John Luther Long, 1913.djvu/123

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DAVE'S BUSINESS

at the trough! Evelyn was "in town," as she said, where she'd been going often of late—sighing and dragging herself off. Jon was fishing. I answered the door.

"Can't you wait a minute?" yells I, from the up-stairs. "Don't break in the door. There's not much of it left, so many of yous come pounding on it. I ain't no Knight, or sympathizer, or spy."

"What's your name?" asks the lieutenant as soon as I got the door open.

I'd got used to answering that, so I says, as sharp as he:

"Stephen Vonner."

The lieutenant turns and nods to his men.

"He's telling the truth, boys, anyhow!"

He was the same man that had asked our names at Crider's.

"How many in your family?"

"Three," says I.

"Men or women?"

"Men."

"No children or ladies?" he asks savage.

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