"A friend," replied Jonathan, uncocking the pistol, and placing it in his pocket. 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. "Whatever you say—you, behind those stars there, if you are a God. “We are clerks in the same bank. Smith," observed Wood. Rich folks, once.
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