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"They were lying here a moment ago, and now they're gone. Dandy, have you got my razors?" "Look here, Beau, what are you going to leave behind?" asked Kemper over Bland's shoulder. "Leave behind? Why, dull care," rejoined Dan gayly. "By the way, Pinetop, why don't you save your appetite for Patterson's dainties?"

Pinetop, who was leisurely eating his breakfast of "hardtack" and bacon, took a long draught from his tin cup, and replied, as he wiped his mouth on his shirt sleeve, that he "reckoned thar wouldn't be any trouble about finding room for them, too." The general gayety was reflected in his face; he laughed as he bit deeply into his half-cooked bacon.

"Pinetop got a load about three miles up," replied Dan, emptying his pipe against the door sill. "I say, who is that cavalry peacock over yonder? By George, it's Champe!" "Perhaps it's General Stuart," suggested Baker witheringly, as Champe came composedly between the rows of huts, pursued by the frantic jeers of the assembled infantry. "Take them earrings off yo' heels take 'em off!

Then, after a sympathetic word to the rest of the division, shivering beneath the sassafras bushes before the tent, he shook hands with his comrades under arms, and started with Pinetop down the muddy road. The war was over, and footsore, in rags and with aching limbs, he was returning to the little valley where he had hoped to trail his glory.

On a sparkling January morning, when Lee's army had gone into winter quarters beside the Rappahannock, Dan stood in the doorway of his log hut smoking the pipe of peace, while he watched a messmate putting up a chimney of notched sticks across the little roadway through the pines. "You'd better get Pinetop to daub your chinks for you," he suggested.

Its first work at Pinetop was to saw the timbers for a large assembly hall, or pavilion, to be used for the only conference ever held that included all the Arizona Stakes. Also in the timber country are to be noted Wilford, named in honor of President Wilford Woodruff, and Heber, named for Heber C. Kimball, small settlements fifty miles southwest of St. Joseph, established in 1883 from St.

But the first man to reach the tree came back with a wry face, and fell to swearing at "the darn fool who could eat persimmons before frost." "Thar's a tree in my yard that gits ripe about September," remarked Pinetop, as he returned dejectedly across the waste. "Ma she begins to dry 'em 'fo' the frost sets in."

A little bird, dazed by the cold and the strange light, flew into the smoke against the stunted pine, and fell, a wet ball of feathers at Dan's feet. He picked it up, warmed it in his coat, and fed it from the loose crumbs in his pocket. When Pinetop awoke he was gently stroking the bird while he sang in a low voice: "Gay and happy, gay and happy, We'll be gay and happy still."

Was it you, Pinetop?" But the mountaineer shook his head in silence, and then, as they halted to rest upon the roadside, he flung himself down beneath the shadow of a sycamore, and raised his canteen to his lips. He had come leisurely at his long strides, and as Dan looked at him lying upon the short grass by the wall, he shook his own roughened hair, in impatient envy.

At last he caught the outlines of a gigantic figure relieved on a hillock against the pale green west, and, with a shout, he hurried through the swarm of fugitives, and overtook Pinetop, who had stooped to tie his shoe on with a leather strap. "Thank God, old man!" he cried. "Where are the others?" Pinetop, panting yet imperturbable, held out a steady hand. "The Lord knows," he replied.