The Return. M. "What's your name?" he said, addressing the audacious lad, who was looking about him as coolly as if nothing material was going on. ToC Mrs. It belonged to his father, and was worn by him on the night he was murdered. At six o'clock, the wicket was shut; and at nine, the jail was altogether locked up. All this muddle to placate his conscience! "Here—quick!" McClintock thrust a cigar into Spurlock's hand.
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