” “Damn!” he remarked at the defaced letter; and, taking a fresh sheet, he recopied what he had written. “I saw you in a sort of sloping, slippery place, holding on by your hands and slipping. ‘What the devil for? I’ll have one of the men ride the creature up tomorrow. Your name?" "Owen Wood," replied the carpenter; "I've no reason to be ashamed of it.
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