“You are their friend, then?” “I am,” Courtlaw answered. "I'll place it to your account, Sir Rowland," answered the thief-taker, smiling significantly. CHAPTER XIV Ruth lost the point entirely. Thames sat with Winifred's hand clasped in his own, and commenced a recital of his adventures, which may be briefly told. He was the beachcomber, or the old sailor with the black pearl (Ruth's tales), or the wastrel musician McClintock had described to him.
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