“I am sure that you are. "Fold it … under the pillow. "Mac, you old son-of-a-gun!" "Got a man's breakfast?" McClintock demanded to know. Gosse sagged under the impact, knocking over the card table, and falling to sit, half stunned, the discharged pistol flying from his slackened grasp. Chapter IX BRENDON’S LUCK Anna sat in a chair in her room and sighed.
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