CHAPTER XXV Spurlock pushed back his helmet and sat down in the white sand, buckling his knees and folding his arms around them—pondering. ” He smiled at the naiveté of her suggestion. One cannot trust any man at all. A time may come,—and that ere long,—when you will be glad to purchase my secrets, and your own safety, at a dearer price than the heads of your companions. But in the train going home her aunt reasoned it out.
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