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Castlemon, Harry, [pseud.], 1842-1915

"Frank on a Gun-Boat"

You'll let me stay down here long enough to cool off
a little, won't you?"
"Wal," answered the guard, who really seemed to be a kind-hearted
fellow, "I reckon as how you mought stay here a minit; but you mustn't
stay no longer."
"All right," answered Frank; and he seated himself on the lower step,
and talked with the guards until he was informed that it was high time
he was "travelin' back up sta'rs."
"Very well," answered Frank, rising to his feet, and stretching
himself, "I'll go, if you want me to."
And he _did_ go. With one bound he dashed by the astonished guards,
and, before they could fire a shot, he had disappeared in the
darkness.
His escape had been accomplished much easier than he had anticipated.
He had expected at least a shot from the guards, and, perhaps, a
struggle with them; for, when he left his quarters, he had determined
to escape, or die in the attempt. In a few moments he reached the
bushes that lined the road on both sides, and threw himself flat among
them, and determined to wait until his pursuers had passed on, so that
he would be on their trail, instead of having them on his.


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