They tracked the fugitive to the Mint; but, like hounds at fault, they here lost all scent of their prey. “‘Go it, missie,’ they said; “kick aht!’ “I swore at that policeman—and disgusted him. He had done this a dozen times on the way from his office. He’s terrible!” “Dad!” Lucy smiled at John. "I've obtained two packets, containing letters from Sir Rowland Trenchard, which I've no doubt will establish your title to the estates. At length, he fell down on the road, fully expecting each moment would prove his last. .
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