Nor must it be imagined, that while he thus exercised his teeth, he neglected the flagon. CHAPTER III. To stumble upon the trail through the agency of a bottle of whisky! Drank queer; so his bottle had rendered him conspicuous. Then, even as they stood there, the room was plunged into darkness. ‘Where’s the sense in running away?’ ‘Doesn’t trust me,’ Gerald said briefly.
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