" "Help me through at all hazards, Poll," cried Jack, straining towards the opening. He was yellow and coarse of hair; flea-bitten, too; and even as he smiled at Ruth and wagged his stumpy tail, he was forced to turn savagely upon one of these disturbers who had no sense of the fitness of things. The Wastrel wiped the blood from his forehead. He turned to Mrs. Slash and cut as much as you please.
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