Michelle burst into laughter, followed by John, who almost spit up his cola. "Who are the others?" "Let me see. "You," answered Jack, abruptly. "I'm at your mercy, Poll," rejoined Kneebone, abjectly. Darell's peculiar bent of mind was exemplified in a rusty broadsword, a tall grenadier's cap, a musket without lock or ramrod, a belt and cartouch-box, with other matters evincing a decided military taste.
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