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Blackness was beginning to consume the cornfield. "What ho!" he cried slapping Smith, who had fallen asleep with the brandybottle in his grasp, upon the shoulder. Hell's curses! that after all my precautions I should be thus entrapped. . ’ ‘Don’t you believe it. ’ Gerald frowned. Gradually McClintock shifted the burden to Spurlock's shoulders and retired among his books and music rolls. “I will take my chance. 1.
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