Darkness closed in on them as the officers stepped inside the musty interior. At least, I hope so for his sake as well as my own," he added, mentally. “He can’t be more than thirty. You know what's what. ‘Only me name,’ Kimble said apologetically. "Your son," replied Jack,—"your miserable, repentant son. I'll be at the Cross Shovels in the course of the day. We shall take an eternal farewell of each other. You see—I didn’t understand. See? Nothing really. "Some dreadful deed is about to be committed, which I may perhaps prevent," muttered Jack to himself.
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