"Going to befuddle himself between now and dinner," was the comment of Prudence. Also, you must send someone to fetch my horse—at least, it is not mine but I have borrowed it to come here—because it will be dark very soon and—’ ‘Woof! Hold it, hold it,’ begged the sergeant. The night was now advancing, and the party began to think of separating. A queer game this: he could not move directly as in an ordinary case of manhunt.
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