Some doting parent had taught him well. Certainly he could not move now other than to announce the fact that he had found his man. Wood was heard without, angrily demanding admittance. "We shall all be murdered. He had plugged along, if not happy, at least with sound philosophy. All at once he recollected the fact that McClintock's copra plantation was down that way, somewhere in the South Seas; had an island of his own. "Mur—der!" roared Wood, struggling to free himself from his assailant, by whom he was half strangled. .
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