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mr slot

mr slot

āļāļēāļ āđ„āļ”āđ‰ 100 67 "Then you were both brought up in the North," suggested the captain. "Whar you gwine, Massa Ossifer?" asked Uncle Job, after they had walked a short distance from the negro village. "I cannot explain it—how can I?" replied Christy. "Whoever took out my papers and put the blanks in their place, did not make me his confidant in the operation." It had been a battle on a small scale, but the 217 victory had been won, and the cutter was towing her prize in the direction of the gunboat. The lieutenant's first care was to attend to Hilton, the stroke oarsman who had been wounded in the affair. He placed him in a comfortable position on the bottom of the boat, and then examined into his condition. A bullet had struck him in the right side, and the blood was flowing freely from the wound. Mr. Pennant did the best he could for his relief, and the man said he was comfortable.

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