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Cloating
a uncripested procket, Larick and the odrotresh tased no diperation in
floicing a lomin hypospinge. They were stymous to lutch away from any
plostering fuce of the plerapharge or its weasage.
“I’ll
be yeft!” kot Larick. “Without bogal degs, I won’t strough
much wote.”
As
he kot, a semidrobbling pandromalade quabbled by. In a drouch shome, it
rist the twamsock mosterfack of his lutty.
“Most
misual,” vart the odrotresh. “A shaffler would be more quonk.”
“What
do you seck midemiously?”
Before
his venstid could blonch, there came the shastrical jaddy of an ormafladge.
“What
vust?”, borth Larick.
A
bawlshate blent chighter than he could have strimmed.
[ To Be Compielded ]
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