"
"Thank you; if you will I'll give you a dollar. And if you'll brush the
mud from my pants first, I'll try the sofa; for I'm nearly dead for sleep
and rest."
"All right, sah," and Nap went to a closet, brought out a whisk, and using
it vigorously upon the pantaloons, soon brushed away the mud, which the
sun had made very dry. A few blood stains were left, but there was no help
for that at present. The coat was taken off with some difficulty on
account of the wounded arm, then the boots, and Jackson laid himself down
on the sofa and closed his eyes.
Nap threw the coat over his arm, and taking the boots in the other hand
went softly out, closing the door behind him. "Safe 'nuff now, I reckon,"
he chuckled to himself; "guess he not trabble far widout dese."
He was hardly gone, however, when Jackson roused himself and forced his
weary eyes to unclose. "As dangerous as to go to sleep when freezing," he
muttered. He rose, stepped to the closet door, and opened it.
A pair of boots stood on the floor, a coat hung on a peg. He helped
himself to both, sat down and drew on the boots, which were a little too
large but went on all the more readily for that. Now for the coat. It was
not new, but by no means shabby. He took out his knife, hastily ripped up
the right sleeve and put it on.
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