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"It's an odd-shaped one," rejoined Kneebone, examining it attentively. " And he raised his arm with the intention of executing his purpose, when a ball from Jack's pistol passed through the back of his hand, shattering the limb. " "Curse on, and welcome," jeered Wild. If a cart were coming, or those labourers in the field had heard, escape was impossible. Daughters were in the air that day. Baptist Kettleby (for so was the Master named) was a "goodly portly man, and a corpulent," whose fair round paunch bespoke the affection he entertained for good liquor and good living.

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