McClintock stared into the bowl of his pipe and Spurlock into his coffee cup. "I was," answered Sheppard. They looked out over the city, grim and silent now, for it was long past midnight. It was a habit of his to talk to himself. The arrangement had been made by the town matchmaker, a frightening old oak of a man. “What else was I to do?” For some seconds she stood watching him and both were thinking very quickly. "Set down the kid," roared Blueskin, savagely. He breathed heavily, as though he had been running.
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