"Mur—der!" roared Wood, struggling to free himself from his assailant, by whom he was half strangled. The entrance of the house 85 was grand, and upon entering she was immediately greeted by John’s mother, a tall, thin woman quite a few years older than Cathy Beck. " "As many as you please," replied Wood, walking towards the chimney-piece, and taking down a constable's, staff, which hung upon a nail. I bound him up good and tight, stuffed his mouth with a length of rope, taped it shut. “Bad hemorrhage,” he said. "I shall go back and finish my supper," said Mrs. Jack turned away with an aching heart.
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