" "Thank God for that!" cried Wood, heartily. This done, he unloosed the pulley, and the ponderous machine, which resembled a trough, slowly descended upon the prisoner's breast. But, suppose I've no place to lock 'em up in, how then?" Quilt looked a little perplexed. You can if you will. Wood," returned Jackson, with the utmost composure; "you're a headborough, and a loyal subject of King George. He walked through the misty September night to his rooms.
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