. Tom Strong, Lincoln's scout, a story of the United States in the times that tried men's souls . , Lincolns Scout climb the telegraph-pole. He had just startedwhen he heard a most unwelcome sound. Hey, thar! Whats you doin? He turned his head and saw a Confederatesentry close beside him. He recognized him asa man with whom he had been chatting arounda camp-fire early that morning. His name wasBill Coombs. Toms ready wit stood by him. Why, Bill, he said, glad to see wrong with the wire. The Cunnelssent me to fix it. Give me a boost, will ye? The unsuspicious Bill gave him a boost
. Tom Strong, Lincoln's scout, a story of the United States in the times that tried men's souls . , Lincolns Scout climb the telegraph-pole. He had just startedwhen he heard a most unwelcome sound. Hey, thar! Whats you doin? He turned his head and saw a Confederatesentry close beside him. He recognized him asa man with whom he had been chatting arounda camp-fire early that morning. His name wasBill Coombs. Toms ready wit stood by him. Why, Bill, he said, glad to see wrong with the wire. The Cunnelssent me to fix it. Give me a boost, will ye? The unsuspicious Bill gave him a boost andwatched him without a thought of his doinganything wrong while Tom climbed to the topof the rickety pole, cut the one wire it carried,fastened the ends to the pole so that from theground nobody could tell it was cut, andclimbed down. Bill urged him to stay and talkawhile, but Tom reminded him that sentriesmustnt talk, then he strolled at first and soonran towards the station. He had to run to catchthe train. The instant Andrews saw him return-ing, he sprang into the cab of the Tom Strong, Lincolns Scout 107 One of his men had already uncoupled the firstthree freight cars from the rest of the train. Allthe men jumped into the cab or the tender orswarmed up the freight-car ladders. Andrewsjerked the throttle wide open. The enginejumped forward, the tender and the three carsbounding after it. The crowd upon the platformgaped after the retreating train, without theslightest idea of what was happening under theirvery noses. A boy came running like an ante-lope from the end of the platform. He jumpedfor the iron step of the locomotive, was clutchedby a half-dozen hands and drawn aboard. Butas he jumped, he heard a voice he had reasonto remember call out: Theyre Yanks. Thats Lieutenant Strong,a Yankee ! Stop em ! Shoot em ! Livid with rage, his long black hair streamingin the wind as he ran after them, Wilkes Boothfired his pistol at them, while the motley crowdhis cr
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