" "You think so, eh?" chuckled Shotbolt, who was eagerly perusing the reward, and congratulating himself upon his caution; "you think so—ha! ha! Well, don't go to bed, that's all. You can’t look me in the eyes and say you don’t care for me. Certain phases of irony always caused him to chuckle audibly. I WAS talking to him before I saw his name on the card beside the row of microscopes. "He's not my son," rejoined the carpenter.
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