"You are," replied Kneebone. "I cannot do it. "Joan! Joan!" vociferated he, "open the door, for God's sake, or I shall be murdered, and so will your babby! Open the door quickly, I say. In Larry’s old Cadillac sedan, she sat in the backseat as Larry drove and Cathy sat beside him. At length, about an hour before dawn on the second day—Sunday—having spent the early part of the night in watching at the gates of the robbers' sanctuary, and being almost exhausted from want of rest, she set out homewards.
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