I’ve to collect my sword and hat, and then we must get back to London. Annabel! Annabel!” His voice became a shriek. An iron fillet secured the socket of the bolt and the box of the lock to the main post of the doorway. He loaded the launch with a thousand pounds—all she could carry—and started home immediately after sundown; but even then he lost from a hundred to a hundred and fifty pounds before he had the stuff cached in McClintock's bamboo-covered sawdust pit.
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