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Chapters (49)
  1. Cover
  2. Farewell Summer
  3. Dedication
  4. CONTENTS
  5. Almost Antietam
  6. Chapter One
  7. Chapter Two
  8. Chapter Three
  9. Chapter Four
  10. Chapter Five
  11. Chapter Six
  12. Chapter Seven
  13. Chapter Eight
  14. Chapter Nine
  15. Chapter Ten
  16. Chapter Eleven
  17. Shiloh and Beyond
  18. Chapter Twelve
  19. Chapter Thirteen
  20. Chapter Fourteen
  21. Chapter Fifteen
  22. Chapter Sixteen
  23. Chapter Seventeen
  24. Chapter Eighteen
  25. Chapter Nineteen
  26. Chapter Twenty
  27. Chapter Twenty-One
  28. Chapter Twenty-Two
  29. Chapter Twenty-Three
  30. Chapter Twenty-Four
  31. Chapter Twenty-Five
  32. Chapter Twenty-Six
  33. Chapter Twenty-Seven
  34. Chapter Twenty-Eight
  35. Chapter Twenty-Nine
  36. Chapter Thirty
  37. Chapter Thirty-One
  38. Chapter Thirty-Two
  39. Chapter Thirty-Three
  40. Chapter Thirty-Four
  41. Chapter Thirty-Five
  42. Appomattox
  43. Chapter Thirty-Six
  44. Chapter Thirty-Seven
  45. Afterword
  46. FAREWELL SUMMER
  47. Also By Ray Bradbury
  48. Copyright
  49. About The Publisher

With the leaf shadows freckling their moves, the old men chewed their insunk mouths and looked at each other with squints and coldnesses and sometimes twinkles. They talked in rustles and scrapings a few feet beyond the monument to the Civil War dead.

Doug Spaulding snuck up, leaned around the monument, and watched the moving chess pieces with apprehension. His chums crept up behind him. Their eyes lolled over the moving chess pieces and one by one they moved back and drowsed on the grass. Doug spied on the old men panting like dogs over the boards. They twitched. They twitched again.

Douglas hissed back at his army. ‘Look!’ he whispered. ‘That knight’s you, Charlie! That king’s me!’ Doug jerked. ‘Mr Weeble’s moving me now, ah! Someone save me!’ He reached out with stiff arms and froze in place.

The boys’ eyes snapped open. They tried to seize his arms. ‘We’ll help you, Doug!’

‘Someone’s moving me. Mr Weeble!’

‘Darn Weeble!’

At which moment there was a strike of lightning and a following of thunder and a drench of rain.

‘My gosh!’ said Doug. ‘Look.’

The rain poured over the courthouse square and the old men jumped up, momentarily forgetting the chess pieces, which tumbled in the deluge.

‘Quick, guys, now. Each of you grab as many as you can!’ cried Doug.

They all moved forward in a pack, to fall upon the chess pieces.

There was another strike of lightning, another burst of thunder.

‘Now!’ cried Doug.

There was a third strike of lightning and the boys scrambled, they seized.

The chessboards were empty.

The boys stood laughing at the old men hiding under the trees.

Then, like crazed bats, they rushed off to find shelter.

Chapter Seventeen

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

‘Bleak!’ Quartermain barked into his telephone.

‘Cal?’

‘By God, they got the chess pieces that were sent from Italy the year Lincoln was shot. Shrewd damn idiots! Come here tonight. We must plan our counterattack. I’ll call Gray.’

‘Gray’s busy dying.’

‘Christ, he’s always dying! We’ll have to do it ourselves.’

‘Steady now, Cal. They’re just chess pieces.’

‘It’s what they signify, Bleak! This is a full rebellion.’

‘We’ll buy new chess pieces.’

‘Hell, I might as well be speaking to the dead. Just be here. I’ll call Gray and make him put off dying for one more day.’

Bleak laughed quietly.

‘Why don’t we just chuck all those Bolshevik boys into a pot, boil them down to essence of kid?’

‘So long, Bleak!’

He rang off and called Gray. The line was busy. He slammed the receiver down, picked it up, and tried again. Listening to the signal, he heard the tapping of tree branches on the window, faintly, far away.

My God, Quartermain thought, I can hear what he’s up to. That’s dying all right.

Chapter Eighteen

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN