From owner-ports-jp@jp.FreeBSD.org Sat Dec 26 00:53:00 2009
Received: (from daemon@localhost)
	by castle.jp.FreeBSD.org (8.11.6p2+3.4W/8.11.3) id nBPFr0n19608;
	Sat, 26 Dec 2009 00:53:00 +0900 (JST)
	(envelope-from owner-ports-jp@jp.FreeBSD.org)
Received: from mrogk.numericable.fr (87-231-13-206.rev.numericable.fr [87.231.13.206])
	by castle.jp.FreeBSD.org (8.11.6p2+3.4W/8.11.3) with SMTP/inet id nBPFqvC19603
	for <ports-jp@jp.freebsd.org>; Sat, 26 Dec 2009 00:52:58 +0900 (JST)
	(envelope-from seismism@rosenkrantz.nl)
Message-ID: <4B34DF2B.1040404@rosenkrantz.nl>
From: Orner <seismism@rosenkrantz.nl>
User-Agent: Thunderbird 2.0.0.22 (Macintosh/20090605)
MIME-Version: 1.0
To: ports-jp@jp.FreeBSD.org
Content-Type: multipart/mixed;
 boundary="------------050107040506060505080907"
Reply-To: ports-jp@jp.FreeBSD.org
Precedence: list
Date: Fri, 25 Dec 2009 16:52:58 +0100
X-Sequence: ports-jp 53669
Subject: [ports-jp 53669] Y comprehend your position as viewed professionally. Am I, then, to unders
Sender: owner-ports-jp@jp.FreeBSD.org
X-Originator: seismism@rosenkrantz.nl
X-Distribute: distribute version 2.1 (Alpha) patchlevel 24e+060209

This is a multi-part message in MIME format.
--------------050107040506060505080907
Content-Type: text/plain; charset=ISO-8859-13; format=flowed
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit

Isoner, his eyes smiling in appreciation of the other's promptness,
although his glance never once wavered, his guarding hand never fell.
Burke was safe enough now, yet he was not to be trifled with, not to be
trusted for an instant, in the playing out of so desperate a game. At
the angle the two halted, while the engineer cautiously reconnoitred the
dimly revealed regions in front. He could perceive but little evidence
of life, excepting the faint radiance of constantly moving lights down
Number One tunnel. Burke stood sullenly silent, venturing upon no
movement except under command. "Anybody down that other entry?" The
foreman shook his head, without glancing around, his jaws moving
steadily on the tobacco that swelled his cheek. "Then lead on down it."
Winston stretched forth his unused left hand as they proceeded, his
fingers gliding along the wall, his observant eyes wandering slightly
from off the broad back of his prisoner toward the sides and roof of the
tunnel. To his experience it was at once plainly evident this
preliminary cutting had been made through solid rock, not in the
following of any seam, but crossways. Here alone was disclosed evidence
in plenty of deliberate purpose, of skilfully planned depredation. He
halted Burke, with one hand gripping his shoulder. "Are you people
following an ore-lead back yonder?" he asked sharply. The Irishman
squirmed, glancing back at his questioner. He saw nothing in that face
to yield any encouragement to deceit. "Sure," he returned gruffly,
"we're follyin' it all down that Number Wan." "What 's the nature of the
ore body?" "A bit low grade, wid a thrifle of copper, an' the vein is
n't overly tick." "How far have you had to cut across here before
striking color?" "'Bout thirty fate o' rock work." "Hike on, you thief,"
commanded the engineer, his jaw setting threateningly. It proved a
decidedly cro

--------------050107040506060505080907
Content-Type: image/jpeg;
 name="hereticises.jpg"
Content-Transfer-Encoding: base64
Content-Disposition: inline;
 filename="hereticises.jpg"

[encoded data, 27947 characters]
--------------050107040506060505080907--
