"Set down the kid," roared Blueskin, savagely. My very sentences stumble and give way. Taking up a couple of large stones which lay near, Jack tried to beat the round basils of the fetters into an oval form, so as to enable him to slip his heels through them. “Sit down,” he said, and perused—“perused” is the word for it—for some moments. "Now Sir," he added, glancing suspiciously at the applicant "your business?" "My business is to acquaint you that Jack Sheppard has escaped, Mr.
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