They had refused. Jack, meanwhile, with Blueskin's assistance, had set the table once more upon its legs, and placing writing materials, which he took from a shelf, upon it, made Shotbolt, who was still gagged, but whose arms were for the moment unbound, sit down before them. A ragged gray moustache drooped from the corners of his mouth and a ragged wisp of whisker hung from his chin.
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