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It was the evening of the next day. Frank Stanhope lay on a couch in a darkened room, a black bandage across his eyes. Erie Landon sat beside him, holding his hand. The pungent odor of ether hung in the air. Out in the dining room old Doctor Allworth, from Bridgetown, was discussing with the specialist things known only to those men of science. dadar satta, Billy paused and rolled a bread crumb. When he looked up his eyes were dark. "Anse has told you that it was me who sneaked him out o' the yard, an' led him away where he could feed an' rest an' get the sores made by the hard saddle an' hickory healed, an' Anse didn't lie fer once. I did do it, an' I'd do it ag'in.

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Enjoy voice and video dadar satta "And I s'pose a rough fall means good duckin'?" laughed Landon. "Oh, by the way, Billy, before I forget. Would you mind runnin' in to old Swanson's landin' on your way home and tellin' him that a couple of fellers from Cleveland are comin' to his place early next month to shoot. They were here last night. One of em's a lawyer named Maddoc an' he give me this money to pass on to Swanson, so's the old codger would be sure and hold a room for 'em.".
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