What? Emerson bounded up from his chair. Emerson handed her three of the nails. That is why I wanted him out of the way. BY ALBERT BIGELOW PAINE TO
Reckon I can. The treasure was packed and ready to go, except for the items I had decided to leave, so I soothed Emerson by returning his staff to him and allowing him to get on with his excavations. The log that had been both disaster and savior had run up against a muddy bank. I took advantage of his tirade to finish my soup.
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