Amid a litter of nails without heads, screws without worms, and locks without wards, lay a glue-pot and an oilstone, two articles which their owner was wont to term "his right hand and his left. The next minute, I contrived, without either of 'em perceiving me, to convey it into my own pocket. Michelle smiled. "Ah! traitor!" cried Jack, pulling the trigger of his pistol.
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