Making up a similar story to that which he had told the old woman, he said he wanted to purchase a hammer and a file. CHAPTER XXII Every morning at dawn it was Spurlock's custom to take a plunge in the lagoon. He then mounted the jaded hack, which had long since regained its legs, and was quietly browsing the grass at the road-side, and, striking spurs into its side, rode off. “My dear Anna,” he answered. E. Spurlock's vision was oddly of the past.
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