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“YOU wouldn’t like to be independent?” he asked, abruptly. "O'ons! Captain," cried Blueskin, as he grumblingly obeyed the command; "if you've left off business yourself, you needn't interfere with other people. “I’m really very sorry. Too damned chickenhearted to confess to me he’d run off with the woman. The following morning found him in the doctor's waiting room, a black cigar turning unlighted in his teeth. I say, I'll take the yarn over and read it to McClintock.
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