He continued tenderly, almost affectionately. When the turnkey, next morning, stepp'd into his room, The sight of the hole in the wall struck him dumb; The sheriff's black bracelets lay strewn on the ground, But the lad that had worn 'em could nowhere be found. One chance in a thousand, and that would be the girl. ” “That’s rather a fine sort of holiday!” He made no answer for three or four seconds. But never mind that. " The hint was not lost upon Wood.
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