III. ‘Well?’ he uttered between heavy breaths. "Fire!—murder—thieves!—I've got one of 'em!" "Come along," cried Jack. Beyond the steps was a pole-chair in readiness. What is it? Good God!” An unhappy little smile parted her lips. The sight of the thief-taker increased the fury of the mob to a fearful degree. Presently she was going through a swaying, noisy crowd, whose faces grinned and stared pitilessly in the light of the electric standards.
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