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A band of excited boys was rushing down the steps of the Sun building and up the narrow thoroughfare toward Fleet Street. Each carried a bundle of newspapers and a large broadsheet with the simple legend:
MURDER
OF
SIGSBEE
MANDERSON
Sir James smiled and rattled the money in his pockets cheerfully. 'It makes a good bill,' he observed to Mr. Silver, who stood at his elbow.
Such was Manderson's epitaph.
