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" "You hear that," whispered Jack. Figg," said Jack. Give me my pistol and my dagger. Before Marthe will become impatient and come out. Ha!" exclaimed the stranger, as shouts and other vociferations resounded at no great distance along the thoroughfare, "not a moment is to be lost. "I'm sorry, Mr. Mr. She fled. Without whisky," went on McClintock, "your irritability is beyond tolerance.
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