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Tom sawyer diner
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Long minutes passed, then the sound of hoofbeats passed, heading southwest. A few more minutes after, martin and Baru reappeared. Mar'tin whispered, riders, a dozen or more, moving down the road as if there were demons coming behind.
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Two other men flanked Two-a-Day on the fat chrome and leather couch, both of them black. The one who'd spoken wore a gray robe of some kind and antique plastic-framed glasses.
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The South Eastern, and the London Greenwich. Aye, that's so, Agar said, with a puzzled look. We need a bone nose to blow on us, Pierce said.
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