"My mother,—my poor mother!" exclaimed Jack. But if you wouldn't have me positively dislike Jack Sheppard, you'll never mention such a subject again. The more her thoughts dwelt upon the subject, the more convinced she was that she could not go to any one for help; she would have to solve the riddle by her own efforts, by some future experience. A boy attempted to follow; but as the suspicions of the lookers-on were roused by the previous circumstances, the younger fugitive was seized and detained. Hill was seated. “Great Scott!” he exclaimed huskily.
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