" The clock tinkled ten. But he told me this much, that no matter how far Mr. "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. All through that brief but measureless space of time during which wonder kept him silent, as fear did her, she cowered there, a limp helpless object. ’ There was a chuckle in his voice. "Do you see any likeness?" "Don't I," returned Jack, bitterly.
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