And now—Dear! Dear! The dayspring from on high hath visited me. The child was now within reach; and, in another moment, he would have executed his deadly purpose, if an arm from behind had not felled him to the ground. Her foster father, Larry, was the hard working son-of-a-bitch type with a disdain for suits. On the right were several mounted grenadiers: on the left, some half dozen javelin-men.
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