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"Lord" Bill fixed his gray eyes on the Breed. "Scatter we've had enough." "Eh? Guess yer per-tickler." There was a truculent tone in Baptiste's voice. Bill's revolver was out like lightning. "Scatter!" And in that word Baptiste realized his dismissal. His face looked very ugly, but he moved off under the covering muzzle of the white man's pistol. Bill watched him until he was out of sight.
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