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Updated: May 26, 2025
He was not fifty yards distant, plainly recognizable, tall, gaunt, sardonic. He held the half-leveled gun ready as if waiting. He had waited there in ambush. The clouds of smoke rolled up above him, hiding the crags. "CORDTS!" Bostil's blood spoke in the girl's thrilling cry. "Hunch down, Lucy!" cried Slone. "Pull my rifle.... I'm only winged not hurt. Hurry! He's goin' "
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