"And so you'll turn highwayman, will you, you young dog?" continued the carpenter, cuffing him soundly,—"rob the mails, like Jack Hall, I suppose. " "Alas!" cried Mrs. “Not much. " "'Sblood!" cried Jackson, rising, "I can't sit still and hear Mr. "What motive have you for concealment?" he demanded. You go to your room and ring for your maid. " "Worth anything?" "I don't know. After that night she made it a habit. " "Mr.
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