Everything was done in the most legal and imposing way, but the whole thing was a fraud. A robbery has been committed, and your master suspects this lad as an accessory to the offence. It was one of those old sliding trap affairs, narrow and steep of descent. The uproar was tremendous—men yelling— dogs barking,—but above all was heard the stentorian voice of Jonathan, urging them on. Sheppard. Her sense of humour could not wholly resist his abnormal gravity. "There's Sharples," cried Quilt.
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