‘You keep a-hold of him,’ Trodger ordered his men. He was roused from the stupor of despair into which he had sunk by the voice of Ben, who roared in his ear, "The bridge!—the bridge!" CHAPTER VII. ‘What, miss?’ asked Jack Kimble from behind her. They were loath to admit to the public that the case would be closed in a few years for sheer lack of forensic evidence. I suppose this is the sort of damned rubbish—” “Oh! Ssh, Peter!” cried Miss Stanley.
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