The wings stopped. “There is no doubt whatever about that. " "Whom do you mean?" demanded Jackson. He was perched on the very edge of the leather seat of the coach, his threecornered hat twisting nervously in his hands, and from time to time he passed a tongue over dry lips. “I cut off his right hand pinky with his own rusty bolt cutter. Let's go up and see how the patient is doing. " "Jack's mother?" exclaimed the young man.
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