This "fatal retreat for the unfortunate brave" was marked by a low wooden railing, within which stood the triple tree. What gave the puzzling twist to an ordinary situation was her manner: she was guileless. She met him by the dugout after the game. "Well, Jack," said the prize-fighter, in a rough, but friendly voice, and with a cutand-thrust abrupt manner peculiar to himself; "how are you, lad, eh? Sorry to see you here.
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