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“You got wet then?” Evening veil'd in dewy shades, THE first of September was Johnny Blossom’s birthday, and Father and Mother had decided that he should have a party and that the party should be held at Kingthorpe. How delightful that would be!.

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“Guess I’m too far,” he thought. “Out of range!” But he guessed wrong, for a moment later his pony stumbled and fell. He rolled clear and staggered to his feet and started to run on. But a moment later he was jerked to earth. One of the men had roped him. “Come along with me then,” suggested Bob. “I would be tickled to death to have company, especially if you’ve got another line and plenty of bait.” “No, fortunately not,” replied Mother. He advanced softly to the window, and beheld in a small room, which was less decayed than the rest of the edifice, a group of men, who, from the savageness of their looks, and from their dress, appeared to be banditti. They surrounded a man who lay on the ground wounded, and bathed in blood, and who it was very evident had uttered the groans heard by the count..