In his muscular pudgy hand was a photograph, frayed at the corners, soiled from the contact of many hands: the portrait of a youth of eighteen. "Wasn't he in some way connected with the Jacobite plots?" "He was," replied Thames. [Illustration: Distinctive Pictures Corporation. "At present under the care of his preserver—one Owen Wood, a carpenter, by whom he was brought up. This isn't your island, child; it's the great world. “I say!” he cried.
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