He won’t be in uniform. CHAPTER XIII. ‘I’m taking you to Gerald, my girl. Before he could recover from the stunning effects of the blow, Wood possessed himself of the child: and, untying the noose which had been slipped round its throat, had the satisfaction of hearing it cry lustily. In one of the cabins a man sat on the edge of his narrow bunk. But stand by and hear such things said about my late mistress’s daughter, I won’t. "Slip on the handcuffs," cried the thief-taker.
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