unlv rebels jersey

"What, a leather-curtained spring-wagon?"

"He noticed you," said Gholson; "he looked back at you and your bay. Wouldn't you like to turn back and see his horse?"

"Suppose it wasn't either."

"Good-morning," we said. One of the men was a sergeant. He scanned my animal, and then me, with a dawning smile. "That's a fightin'-cock of a horse you've got, sonny."

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"Yes," I said, and handed her, as I dismounted, the General's gift, the pass.

"My mother! Do you know my mother?"

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