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almost pleasing. "Good-bye, Smith, remember your failings."

"Well, that might depend on who 'her' is." We had reached the cross-roads and he was turning south.

I stepped back, heaving. "Who and what are you? Who and what are you?"

I dilated. "Who told--did Ned Ferry tell you that story?"

While I told of the scrimmage, the guard relieved me of Oliver, and as I finished, three men galloped up and reined in. "All right," said one, saluting.

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