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PinkMonkey.com-Treasure Island by Robert Louis Stevenson


fate.

A hail on the land side.
“Somebody hailing us,” said Hunter, who was on guard.
“Doctor! Squire! Captain! Hullo, Hunter, is that you?” came the
cries.

And I ran to the door in time to see Jim Hawkins, safe and
sound, come climbing over the stockade.


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