And now YOU’RE on the war-path. Please sit with me. Amid the confusion, Shotbolt sprang to his feet, and levelling a pistol at Jack's head, commanded him to surrender; but, before any reply could be made, the jailer's arm was struck up by Blueskin, who, throwing himself upon him, dragged him to the ground. The lad looked alarmed. Jonathan's vexation at the disappointment was expressed in the bitterest imprecations, and he returned as speedily as he could to the trench. "And I want to thank you, too," supplemented Ruth. “Indeed,” she said, “I would not.
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