Perhaps these few words were the first real conscious words he had uttered in days. Take my child to—it is—oh God!—I am sinking—take it—take it!" "Where?" shouted Wood. But if his frame was immature, his looks were not so. He was well mounted, as was his companion; and had pistols in his holsters, and a hanger at his girdle. ‘I suppose I need not ask to which other soldier you refer.
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