In concealing himself behind the timber, Mr. Anna stepped back at once with a little gasp of relief. "And so you'll turn highwayman, will you, you young dog?" continued the carpenter, cuffing him soundly,—"rob the mails, like Jack Hall, I suppose. ” “To bad rubbish. ” “No you’re not. And yet the moment I am safely out of the way you are content to dress yourself in my rags, to go and get yourself popular and admired and successful, all on my reputation.
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