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Smith, Francis Hopkinson, 1838-1915

"Colonel Carter of Cartersville"


Over his head he held the stub of a candle flickering in the night
wind. This he moved up and down in obedience to certain mysterious
sounds which came rumbling out of the tunnel. Beside him on the stone
step lay the brass-cornered mahogany dueling case with both weapons
gone.
The only other light visible was the glowing eye of the tall tower.
"Where's the colonel?" we both asked in a breath.
Chad kept the light aloft with one hand like an ebony Statue of Liberty,
and pointed straight ahead into the tunnel with the other.
"Mo' to the left," came the voice.
Chad swayed the candle towards the broken-down fence, and sent his
magnified shadow scurrying up the measly wall and halfway over to the
next house.
"So! Now steady."
The darky stood like the Sphinx, the light streaming atop of the tall
candlestick, and then said from out one side of his mouth, "Spec' you
gemmen better squat; she's gwineter bite."
Fitz peered into the tunnel, caught the gleam of a pistol held in a
shadowy hand, made a clear leap, and landed out of range among the
broken flower-pots.


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