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Fitzhugh, Percy Keese, 1876-1950

"Roy Blakely, Pathfinder"


"True again," Gaylong said-awful funny.
Of course, I knew that was the way Harry would think about it, because's
he's one of that reckless, happy-go-lucky sort. I guess Brent Gaylong was
kind of the same way. Anyway, before we lay down to go to sleep, I said to
Gaylong:
"Would you mind letting me have that article to read by our lantern while
you fellows are spreading the balsam?"1
1 Balsam is used for making beds.
He said, "Sure," and began feeling in his pockets. "Guess that other fellow
has it," he said, sort of careless; "it's no use anyway."
Pretty soon we were all fixed for the night. We made those Newburgh scouts
sleep under our balloon silk shelter. They didn't want to, but we told
them we'd like to sleep in the open for a change.
I guess I must have been asleep for an hour or so, when all of a sudden I
was awake again. Anyway, it couldn't have been more than an hour, because
the wood from our fire was still warm. It was awful nice and dark and
quiet. There wasn't any sound at all, except a cricket. Pretty soon I
could hear the whistle of a train very far away; I guess it was way over at
the Hudson.


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