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Synopsis

He shot Jake Halloran in the head, then turned to me, smiling, the Luger held loosely in his right hand.

“Hello, pal,” he said. “My name’s Ralph Angers. What’s yours?”

That’s how I met him, this grave-looking, clean-cut, totally mad young man, who walked through my town with a gun, leaving a wake of tears and agony and murder behind him.

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