. CHAPTER VII The astonishing collapse of Spurlock created a tableau of short duration. Whether the turnkey entertained any suspicion of the old man, Jack could not tell, but that night he was more than usually rigorous in his search; and having carefully examined the prisoners and finding nothing to excite his suspicions, he departed tolerably satisfied. But it's confounded inconvenient. "No, lad," said McClintock, his tone becoming kindly. "My horse has had a fall," replied Jack, assuming to perfection—for he was a capital mimic,—the tones of Quilt Arnold.
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