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"No," I rejoined, "the first step would be the last."

Old Dismukes rose. "Good-night. Shall I send this boy that Yankee's horse?"

"No," she laughed, "and if I go back with you to Wiggins--to the little white cottage, you know, opposite the blacksmith's shop,--you'll give me what you've got for me, won't you?" She dropped her head to one side and a mocking-bird chuckle rippled in her throat.

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