On examination it proved to be a flat bar of iron, nearly a yard in length, and more than an inch square. The uproar was tremendous—men yelling— dogs barking,—but above all was heard the stentorian voice of Jonathan, urging them on. Why, then, did he touch it? As he climbed heavily into his chair, she was able to note the little beads of sweat under the cracked nether lip. “My word holds,” she said.
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