He went on munching his water-chestnuts, and stared at the skyline. He grunted, and his grip gave. ” There was never any shortage of bad men to eat, especially with pestilence and superstition to cover their tracks. Everybody talking of you. A tinge of admiration rose in his breast. "How would you like a job on a copra plantation?" he asked, irrelevantly to the thoughts crowding one another in his mind.
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