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... l Arts Hall.
Three large tricycles loaded with ore rolled over the cracked asphalt road, the rusty frames groaning as if in a death throe.
Twelve gray-clad men shouldered logs and followed closely behind, the coarse bark rubbing raw marks on their shoulders, but no one stopped—these gray-clad folks had been shuttling back and forth to the Grizzly Mine for three consecutive days. Their mechanical repetition of the mining task had turned the initial startled glances of the vagabond ...
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