He came in with his hands in his trousers pockets and a general air of depression in his bearing. "Go—go!" "I see what you mean," rejoined Blueskin, tossing a large case-knife, which he took from his pocket, in the air, and catching it dexterously by the haft as it fell; "you owe Jonathan a grudge;—so do I. “How could it not have hurt?” His analytical side started putting in overtime. Nothing disheartened by this survey, Jack set to work upon the lock, which he attacked with all his implements;—now attempting to pick it with the nail;— now to wrench it off with the bar: but all without effect. The next moment, a struggle was heard, and Blueskin appeared at the door, followed by Mrs. V. Me, I have a question for you first.
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