But it was only six-thirty. “But about last night. “Please come home. "I've lost my wager. "A friend," replied Jonathan, uncocking the pistol, and placing it in his pocket. When he awoke, it was late in the day; but though he heard voices outside, and now and then caught a glimpse of a face peeping at him through the iron grating over the door, no one entered the prison, or held any communication with him. His father and mother are gone now. Most of the horses were dead, all but three stallions and two mares left among what was once a thriving stable. David Courtlaw.
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