He hung precariously on the ragged edge, but he hung there. ” His face darkened. Put out your hand and bid me God-speed. When the turnkey, next morning, stepp'd into his room, The sight of the hole in the wall struck him dumb; The sheriff's black bracelets lay strewn on the ground, But the lad that had worn 'em could nowhere be found. Ennison seemed to feel already the shadow of tragedy approaching. The foremost, tall, clean-shaven, perfectly groomed, half extended his hand with a smile of recognition.
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