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smallest bit of uneasiness in his voice. He covered it with a laugh. “Is he trying to trap the devil they say runs up there? Maybe skin him up and sell his hide to the Pope?”

     “Lord only knows what my daddy’s thinking half the time,” Joey said. “All I know is he got the idea to set traps out up that way Friday night after a few beers and now he’s flat out in the mud. I can’t carry him and I can’t drag him and I can’t leave him there. An extra set of hands would really help me out.”

     “Friday, you say?” Coach was staring off into the distance. Joey could almost see him backtracking to see if he might have been caught with his hand in the proverbial cookie jar.


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