“A nice time of anxiety you’ve given me, young lady,” he said, as he entered the room. Mr. The petals have fallen—the red petals we loved so. He loaded the launch with a thousand pounds—all she could carry—and started home immediately after sundown; but even then he lost from a hundred to a hundred and fifty pounds before he had the stuff cached in McClintock's bamboo-covered sawdust pit. Slowly a mirthless and very unpleasant smile dawned upon his face.
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