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"We smuggled it through!" chanted the trio, ready to weep for virtuous joy. And then they clasped arms like the graces, about their aunt, and let her speak.

"Yes, bub," I replied. The two men laughed so explosively that my horse lifted his head austerely.

"No," he said, "my last name is Durand." He gave it the French pronunciation.

Oh, he wasn't taking offence. His reptile temper crawled into hiding, and when I said day was breaking, he said he would show me my way.

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