. Jack Kimble nodded eagerly. Something is feeding upon them. His next occupation was to take out his pistols, examine the priming, and rub the flints. "Saved!" "Ay, ay, it's all bob, my covey! You're safe enough, that's certain!" responded the Minters, baying, yelping, leaping, and howling around him like a pack of hounds when the huntsman is beating cover; "but, where are the lurchers?" "Who?" asked Wood.
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