"Si—lence!" vociferated Charcam, laying great emphasis on the last syllable. She could not help but admit that she liked being smiled at and addressed in the hallways by hordes of friendly faces. Sheppard, vainly trying to discover a gleam of compassion in the thief-taker's inexorable countenance,—"Mercy! mercy!" "Pshaw!" rejoined Jonathan. “She will take her risk,” she answered. He was standing up with the telegram crumpled in his hand. CHAPTER XXVIII.
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