With his tongue lolling and his flea-bitten stump wagging apologetically, he glanced from face to face to see if there was any forgiveness visible. CHAPTER XXV Spurlock pushed back his helmet and sat down in the white sand, buckling his knees and folding his arms around them—pondering. The locket contained the face of her mother—all the family album she had. ’ ‘Yes, but I’m hanged if I see what your game is.
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