Peter Carr, with his usual skills, scattered flies through blazing puddles. And yet not a single fish moved, nor did the slightest rise reward him for all his efforts. Peter walked many miles that day, and the prospect of a quiet evening over the blazing peat fire was clearly pleasant. But before he walked another quarter of a mile, he was awakened by his pleasant reverie of a piercing call for help.
The Man from Montevideo
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