CHAPTER XXV Spurlock pushed back his helmet and sat down in the white sand, buckling his knees and folding his arms around them—pondering. I know South America and Canada like the lines in my hand. On examining the door, he found it secured by a large rusty lock, which he endeavoured to pick with the nail he had just acquired; but all his efforts proving ineffectual, he removed the plate that covered it with the bar, and with his fingers contrived to draw back the bolt.
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