"What is it? What's in there?" Schwillic asked.
Stanley picked him up and held him over the edge of the bin so he could see.
The tripod paled to a sickly, blue-gray.
"Do you recognize him?" Stanley asked.
"Yes," the tripod said in a shaky voice. "His name was Joshua, from the farm. He was a good man." The tripod wiggled uncomfortably in the boy's
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HEHEH
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