It was a gray day in the spring of 1910. ‘I feared as much. "Then, the story of his death was false. “I cannot say more. “It jars. "And so you'll turn highwayman, will you, you young dog?" continued the carpenter, cuffing him soundly,—"rob the mails, like Jack Hall, I suppose. "I will set about it instantly. “I am afraid that you are making a mistake.
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