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The doleful procession at once assumed a festive character. “I do,” he answered. It was at lunch when McClintock announced that in the mailpouch he had found a letter addressed to Howard Taber, care of Donald McClintock and so-forth. Diane did not hear the footsteps on her brick patio or the audible click of the back door lock being compromised. " Her island! How well he knew it, thought Spurlock, for all he lacked the name and whereabouts! Suddenly a new thought arose and buffeted him. "That's a fine tale," said Spurlock. He let go of the girl’s arm. "My horse is at the door, saddled, with pistols in the holsters,—mount him and fly.
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