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Tom Slade with the Colors

Chapter 7 THE TRAIL RUNS THROUGH A PESTILENT PLACE

Word Count: 726    |    Released on: 06/12/2017

s success, he banished them. Uncle Sam, poor bleeding, gallant France, and the voice of the scout, had all spoken to him out of the face

s, and as he did so he gave a little rueful chuckle at the thought of poor Roscoe struggling with the tangl

matches in an airtight box, his scout knife and a little bottle of antiseptic. T

ietly and slipped into the street. He hurried now, for he wished

h he had not seen in many a day. The sight of its dirty window, filled with a disorderly assortment of familiar articles, took him back to the old life in Ba

several times before he could muster the courage to enter. When he did enter, the old f

d, laying the plush case on the co

e wants in such a place, and five dollars would at least get him to

nse while the man took the precious Gold C

d, coming back

have five,

is head. "Three

Tom insisted. "I'm goi

d at him keenly. "All right,

ocket which he seldom used. He had not examined it, and he did not wish to read it or be reminde

eum," he said to himself, as he folded his five-dollar bill. "Gee

descended the steps of that stuffy den when whom should he see staring at him from dire

surprise at seeing him, for they had with them a big flag pole and s

programs for the patriotic rally, and he wondered if

hing his five dollars in his pocket, he turned dow

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