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Richardson, John, 1796-1852

"Hardscrabble; or, the fall of Chicago. a tale of Indian warfare"

The three men you have named, are,
with myself, quite enough. Be on the look-out though, to
let us in on our return. Have you provided a dark lantern?"
"Yes, sir, Collins has the lantern belonging to the guard
house."
"Good. I will follow you in a moment, Elmsley," he
continued, rising and draining off his half-emptied glass,
"lend me your prayer-book. I wish that you could be
present at this dismal ceremony, but of course that is
wholly out of the question."
"It is, indeed, my dear fellow. It would never do for us
both to be absent. Not only ourselves but the men would
be brought into the scrape, for you know Headley always
sleeps with one eye open."
"I do not like to do any thing clandestinely," remarked
the ensign--"particularly after our reconciliation with
him. Moreover, it is, as you say, in some degree
compromising the men and myself with them. I have a great
mind before I start to see and explain every thing to
Headley, and obtain his sanction to my absence."
"Nonsense," returned his friend, "he will never know it;
besides it is possible that he may refuse to let you go
before morning, and your object is, of course, to have
every thing finished to-night.


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