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But he had scarcely advanced a step, when he was felled to the ground by a blow from the powerful arm of Kneebone, who, instantly possessing himself of a pistol, levelled it at Jackson's head. In lieu of the substantial habitations which he had gazed on overnight, he beheld a row of falling scaffoldings, for such they seemed. Miss Mary to the life. The attempt was unsuccessful. But there is something in your voice that makes me distrust you. “You wish me to stay?” he asked, in a low tone.
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