Kneebone," observed Shotbolt, as he emptied his tenth tumbler; "I'm sure he's meditating an escape, and hopes to accomplish it to-night. Chapter XXX SIR JOHN’S NECKTIE Sir John, in a quiet dark travelling suit, was sitting in a pokey little room writing letters. "I cannot—will not suffer you to remain here. Instead of passing on, as Jack expected, these persons stopped opposite the cage, when one of them, as he judged from the sound, for he did not dare to look out of his hiding place, dismounted. For the first time a definite doubt possessed him. “These are the sort of things that aren’t supposed to happen. "What are you waiting for?" asked Jack, impatiently. gutenberg.
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