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Various

"The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 03, No. 16, February, 1859"


"What am I going to do? I'll break every bone in your skin, if you don't
give up this plot you are in. Do you _dare_ to set yourself to put _me_
down? Don't let any of your tools _dare_ to run my stocks! If you do,
I'll go to a magistrate and have you arrested."
"When I am arrested, my good Sir," said Fletcher, with a face pale as
death, but with lips firmly set, "I advise you to have your accounts
ready. For I shan't be in the jug a minute before you'll have to show
your papers and your cash-book to the Company."
Sandford staggered as though he had received a blow from a bruiser. He
gasped for breath,--turned pale, then red,--at length with difficulty
said, "You defy me, then? We shall see!"
"You have it;--I defy you, hate you, despise you! I have been your slave
long enough. Do your worst. But the instant you move, I promise you that
a man will look after you, d--d quick."
Sandford looked around. Tonsor was calmly counting the pile of
bank-notes before him. It was near eleven. This Board would soon
commence its session. He stepped into the street, slamming the door
after him.
"Pretty well, for a beginning!" said Fletcher, meditating, "a shot
betwixt wind and water. So much for Bullion's advice. Bullion is a
trump, and Sandford be hanged!"

CHAPTER XIII.
SED REVOCARE GRADUM!--

The fatigue, drenching, and terror of the unlucky day's sail produced
their natural effects upon a rather delicate constitution.


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