"Von't you hear me?—ough! ough!" demanded Sharples, after a pause. " Prudence shrugged. Let us search it. "Fire!—murder—thieves!—I've got one of 'em!" "Come along," cried Jack. "Untie his arms, and take off that handkerchief. ‘When you’re my age, you’ll be just as hardheaded. Don't be afraid, man,—off with it. "No; but I shall, before he retires to rest.
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