"Fire!—murder—thieves!—I've got one of 'em!" "Come along," cried Jack. He was perched on the very edge of the leather seat of the coach, his threecornered hat twisting nervously in his hands, and from time to time he passed a tongue over dry lips. “What the devil are you doing star-gazing here?” Ennison looked at him in surprise. “Take her limbs again.
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