"Jack," exclaimed the widow, starting up and drawing back the curtain. I want to tell every one. . ‘Sergeant Trodger is who I am. ” Hill looked up at him, an unkempt, rough-looking object, with broken collar, tumbled hair, and the blood slowly dripping from his face. She remembered possessing it during the Gold Rush. "Show me your warrant!" said Wood, almost driven to his wit's-end; "perhaps it isn't regular?" "Ask him who he is?" suggested Thames. ‘Indeed?’ Gerald grinned.
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