‘For God’s sake, let go my hand,’ he begged. " With this, he drew the spike from his pocket; and, drowning the sound of the operation by whistling, singing, shuffling, and other noises, contrived, in a few minutes, to liberate his companion from the handcuffs. The silence of Canton at night was sinister, for none could prophesy what form of mob might suddenly boil out. But for now, I’d like to turn in, if you don’t mind.
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