Spurlock halted in his tracks. " "Murder him!" cried Trenchard shuddering. We close the chapter. He was well mounted, as was his companion; and had pistols in his holsters, and a hanger at his girdle. The latter no sooner beheld him than he dashed hastily into an adjoining room. “I suppose you’re like the rest of them. ” “Oh, I might,” he answered, “have gone further still. "Those chops, fried potatoes, and buttered toast. \"I'm going to his baseball game, he's pitching for Lincoln, and then I believe he is taking me to dinner. Father— dead.
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