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Altsheler, Joseph A. (Joseph Alexander), 1862-1919

"The Shadow of the North A Story of Old New York and a Lost Campaign"

Then the two lads looked at each
other and laughed, laughed in the careless, joyous way in which youth
alone can laugh.
"It is he, Mynheer Jacobus himself, come to let us in," said Robert.
"And he has not changed at all," said Tayoga. "We can tell that by
the character of his voice on the other side of the door."
"And I would not have him changed."
"Nor would I."
The door was thrown open, but as all the windows were closed there was
yet gloom inside. Presently something large, red and shining emerged
from the dusk and two beams of light in the center of the redness
played upon them. Then the outlines of a gigantic human figure, a man
tall and immensely stout, were disclosed. He wore a black suit with
knee breeches, thick stockings and buckled shoes, and his powdered
hair was tied in a queue. His eyes, dazzled at first by the light from
without, began to twinkle as he looked. Then a great blaze of joy
swept over his face, and he held out two fat hands, one to the white
youth and one to the red.
"Ah, it iss you, Robert, you scapegrace, and it iss you, Tayoga, you
wild Onondaga! It iss a glad day for me that you haf come, but I
thought you both dead, und well you might be, reckless, thoughtless
lads who haf not the thought uf the future in your minds.


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