" "What gives you that idea?" "Well, we could find no letter of credit, no letters, no labels in his clothes—not a single clew to his real identity. All the turnkeys rose to salute the thief-taker, whose habitually-sullen countenance looked gloomier than usual. On a stool eight feet high sat a small boy in a faded blue cotton, his face like that of young Buddha. ‘Who is that man? What has he to do with you? No, don’t tell me. Mr.
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