"Heaven have mercy on his soul!" ejaculated Wood. So your name must be Americanized? What country? It sounds Spanish. A hand of iron fell upon the scowling young man’s shoulder. He found a coach at the door, with the blinds carefully drawn up, and ascertained from a tall, ill-looking, though tawdrily-dressed fellow, who held his horse by the bridle, and whom he addressed as Quilt Arnold, that the two boys were safe inside, in the custody of Abraham Mendez, the dwarfish Jew. "Rather in the way. CHAPTER XVII. ‘I’m not going to arrest you, young Jack—yet. “Go to the far corner,” he said, “and sing the last verse of Les Petites.
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