"Quilt!—Mendez!—Where are you?" vociferated Wild, sounding his whistle for the third time. " "Will you do it?" persisted Blueskin. His gangling body was clothed in rusty twill trousers and a long black seersucker coat, buttoned to the throat, around which ran a collar which would have marked him the world over as a man of the Word. "Right!—right!" cried Jack, striking his fettered hands against his breast.
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