Sharples," replied Quilt; "lock 'em up. " "Beat out their brains, you mean," rejoined Blueskin with a tremendous imprecation; "no half measures now, Master. She laughed altogether in her old manner. “Well anyhow—I don’t see the force of your objection, you know. Wood!" "Leave go!" thundered Blueskin—"leave go—you'd better!"—and he held the sack as firmly as he could with one hand, while with the other he searched for his knife. ’ ‘Get going, then,’ Trodger told his men.
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