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"A good post, you meandering old puddin'-head!" retorted Anstey. "Good? The post that goes by old Fort Clinton?" "Well, it is a bit lonely, off there in the woods," admitted Cadet Prescott. "Lonely?" bubbled over Anstey. "And you've seen the ditch that runs along by that post?" "Naturally," nodded Dick.
He had half flattered himself with the hope of capturing not only Sandy Flash, but his plunder; it was hard to forget that, for a day or two, he had been independent, hard to stoop again to be a borrower and a debtor! "What are the county authorities good for?" Mark exclaimed. "Between you and me, the Sheriff's a reg'lar puddin'-head. I wish you was in his place."
The cowboy cursed violently. "Here I won't tell you any more if you're goin' to cuss that way an' jerk around," protested Wade. "I I'll shut up," appealed Moore. "Well, that puddin'-head Jack is more'n you called him, if you care to hear my opinion.... Now, Wils, the fact is that none of them know what ails Collie. But I know. She'd been under a high strain leadin' up to October first.
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