Fretting and fidgeting, he had, after an hour or so, turned to McClintock. Not a bad man as men go, but he would sell whisky and gin. Nothing else was put in their place, and they remained sotto voce, as it were, in his mind. Maggot lent her powerful aid, and, between the two, Jack was speedily relieved from all fears of being carried off against his will. “Yes. "My horse is at the door, saddled, with pistols in the holsters,—mount him and fly.
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