Sheppard," cried the thief-taker, as he slipped a pair of handcuffs over Jack's wrists, "for the help you have given us in capturing your son. "Bravo, Poll!" cried Jack, who having again pinioned Shotbolt, was now tracing a few hasty lines on a sheet of paper. He glanced at it, and saw the bloodied blade. “Let us escape,” she said. ” she said. "I forbid you to do that. “Why should I bear the burden of your wickedness? Who knows what might come of it? I shall permit nothing of the sort. ” “Well,” Mrs. But oh, how weary I am! I know. They were both dressed in every respect alike. Your laugh reminds me of—of——" "Whose, Sir?" demanded Jackson, becoming suddenly grave. “Aren’t you supposed to be in bed, pervert?” “Yes sir.
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