Fatigued by his previous exertions, and incumbered by his fetters, he was by no means—though ordinarily remarkably swift of foot—a match for his foes, who were fast gaining upon him. ” “No you’re not. ” He shook his head, and his eyes and the mouth under the black mustache wrinkled with his smile. There lay upon this stand a book bound in limp black leather—the Holy Bible. The farmer was a widow who was slightly famous around town for his prize cows and slightly more famous for his good looks.
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