Blueskin will take care of the horses, and I'll go with you. She glanced at him and made a dismissive gesture. Having disposed of his steed and swallowed a glass of brandy, without taking any other refreshment, he threw himself on a couch, where he sank at once into a heavy slumber. “Oh, please. I am on my way to an aunt who lives in Hartford, Connecticut. Die game. I've a couple of kinchens in yonder rattler, whom I wish to place under old Sharples's care.
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