" "Suffer me to proceed," replied the stranger. "What is he gone there for?" "With a message to the turnkey to look after his prisoner," replied Wild, with a cunning smile. ” Hill looked up at him, an unkempt, rough-looking object, with broken collar, tumbled hair, and the blood slowly dripping from his face. And, decently as he could, McClintock was giving the man the boot. ” The man hesitated. An old man with a bent back who limped in, slow and stiff, leaning heavily on a cane. Too late now. END OF THE FIRST EPOCH.
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