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Dixon, Thomas, 1864-1946

"The Southerner A Romance of the Real Lincoln"


The guard had no sooner turned his back than Ned Vaughan quickly opened
and read the precious message which gave the plan of escape.
When the sentinel on his corridor was changed at midnight the blond,
blue-eyed boy would be his friend and explain.
When he found the rope ladder concealed on the roof it was raining. He
fastened it carefully in the shadow of an offset in the outer wall and
waited for the appearance of the guard. As he passed the gas lamp post
and the flickering light fell on his face he studied it with care. He
was stupid and allowed the rain to dash straight into his fat face. It
should be easy to reach the shadows by a quick leap when he turned
against the rain and reached the length of his beat.
He calculated to a second the time required to make the descent, threw
himself swiftly to the end of his rope and dropped to the pavement.
In his eagerness to strike the ground on the run, his foot slipped and
he fell. The guard heard and ran back, blinking his stupid eyes through
the rain. He found a young sport who had lost his way in the storm.
"I shay, partner," the fallen drunk blubbered. "What'ell's the matter
here? Ain't this Joe Hall's place?"
"Not by a dam sight."
"Ah, g'long with yer, f-foolishness--man--and open the door--I'm an old
customer--I ain't no secret service man--I'm all right--open her up----"
"Here, here, get up an' move on now, I can't fool with you," the guard
growled good-naturedly.


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