There you are," and he tore the leaf from his note book and handed it up with a faint smile.
The Southerner took it with a reluctant hand.
"I--I wish I could thank you--Morrison," he said in tones that shook with feeling, "but you see I--I--" "Then please don't try.

Because if you do I'll--I'll have to hold Virgie as a prisoner of war.
"Well, young one," he said to the small Miss Cary with a laugh, "did you really get something to eat ?" "Yes, sir.

That is--we _almost_ did." "_Almost ?_" he echoed.
"Yes, sir," came the plaintive answer.

"Eve'y time we start to eat--somethin' _always_ happens!" "Well, well, that _is_ hard luck," he said with a gentle squeeze of her frail body.

"But I'll bet you it won't happen this time; not if a whole regiment tries to stop it." "Come on," he suggested as he sprang to his feet and began picking up dry twigs.