” “My dear young lady,” the official said irritably, “this man would not have your name and address in his pocket without an object. Kneebone," observed Shotbolt, as he emptied his tenth tumbler; "I'm sure he's meditating an escape, and hopes to accomplish it to-night. " "Beat out their brains, you mean," rejoined Blueskin with a tremendous imprecation; "no half measures now, Master.
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