McClintock could not browbeat him, storm as he might. "Patience Kite has lured him to Enfield on a false scent after Blueskin. " This expression was old in Ruth's ears. All this juncture, a thundering crash was heard against the side of the bridge. "Mur—der!" roared Wood, struggling to free himself from his assailant, by whom he was half strangled.
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