Page:War; or, What happens when one loves one's enemy, John Luther Long, 1913.djvu/170

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WAR

after going to bed and fooling the sleep with the notion that it was all fixed till morning. Mostly, Jon had to wake me, or there would have been no watch. And often I have to admit Jon was good to me and watched two nights in succession—when he came and heard me snoring so in earnest. I admit I have a big snore.

I had never been about much at night. And snooping now in the light of the moon made honest things look queer, and made me acquainted with many queer things which had looked honest.

The way the lights used to perform in Ben Crider's garret window was a caution. Sometimes it was a regular dance. And there were whistles and horns blowing now and then, and all sorts of creepy shadows and things, and rapid riders.

The fact of the matter is, though I don't like to admit it, I was afraid to be out alone at night. It got me so nervous that I was ready to fire at the bunnies I wakened out of their

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