What had actually beaten him was not to have known if someone had picked up his trail. It seemed to him that a sort of mist had risen up between them. And more boys die than girls, so that the real disproportion among adults is even greater. To-morrow they will know the truth. From this perturbed state he was roused by thoughts of his mother, and fancying he heard her gentle voice urging him on to fresh exertion, he started up. He was therefore obliged to use the iron bar, which he did with as much caution as circumstances would permit. It appeared highly probable to her that he would stop her allowance. "Curse you! Where are the bailiffs? Rot you! have you lost your tongue? Devil seize you! you could bawl loud enough a moment ago!" "Silence, Blueskin!" interposed an authoritative voice, immediately behind the ruffian.
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