" "You don't say so!" exclaimed Shotbolt. It was always jabbing him with white-hot barbs, waking or sleeping. \" Cathy beamed. "And so you'll turn highwayman, will you, you young dog?" continued the carpenter, cuffing him soundly,—"rob the mails, like Jack Hall, I suppose. " "If I thought so—" cried the knight fiercely; "but this is idle," he added, suddenly checking himself. There's our young friend upstairs.
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