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McCutcheon, George Barr, 1866-1928

"Truxton King A Story of Graustark"

No doubt hundreds of men already had stolen through these
gates during the night, secreting themselves in the fastnesses of the
city, ready for the morrow's fray. It is no small wonder that he
shuddered at the thought of it.
There was no one on the wharf--at least, no one in sight. They rushed up
the narrow railway chutes and through one of the numerous gateways that
opened out upon the barge docks. No one opposed them; no one was
standing guard. From behind came the sound of rushing footsteps.
Lightning flashed in the sky and the rumble of thunder broke over the
desolate night.
"They'll see us by the lightning," gasped Truxton, almost ready to drop
from faintness and exhaustion. He was astounded, even alarmed, to find
that his strength had been so gravely depleted by confinement and lack
of nourishment.
They were inside the city walls. Ahead of them, in that labyrinth of
filthy streets lay the way to the distant square. His arm was now about
her waist, for she was half-fainting; he could hear her gasping and
moaning softly, inarticulate cries of despair. Switch-lights blinked in
the distance. Off to the right of them windows showed lights; the clang
of a locomotive bell came to them as from a great distance.
Their progress was abruptly halted by the appearance of a man ahead,
standing like a statue in the middle of the network of tracks.


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