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 Wastrel wiped the blood from his forehead. The idea of this sudden reluctance was elusive; the fact was evident but not the reason for it. "The natives have foolish ways of saying things. ” He replied.
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