"How do I know you are a friend?" asked Darrell. ‘General, we do not know. They were now in a sort of cellar, at one end of which was a door. Oh, don't worry. "Devilish strange!" thought he, chuckling to himself; "queer business! Capital trick of the cull in the cloak to make another person's brat stand the brunt for his own—capital! ha! ha! Won't do, though. You must wait till supper's over.
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