black baker mayfield jersey

"Hi! there goes one of them!--Halt!--Halt, you blue--" pop!--pop!--pop!

"Clifton?"

"Why, who and what should I be?"

Not because of this speech, but of a soft rubbing sound on the window-sill behind me, my heart turned cold. Yet there I saw a most welcome sight. Against the outer edge of the sill an unseen hand was moving a forked stick to and fro. The tip of one of its tines was slit, in the slit was a white paper, and in the fork hung the bridle of my horse. I glided to the window. But there bethinking me how many a man had put his head out at just such a place and never got it back, I made a long sidewise reach, secured the paper, and read it.

When I said I would try she looked distressfully unassured and I added "I'll do whatever risks no life but mine."

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