He was roused from the stupor of despair into which he had sunk by the voice of Ben, who roared in his ear, "The bridge!—the bridge!" CHAPTER VII. The three young men exchanged expressive glances. Barleycorn had sent to the mat for the count of nine: unless the young fool's daddy had a bundle of coin. “It’s magnificent!” He leaned back and regarded her with his head a little on one side.
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