But he wrote on. The militiaman at once thrust the old man between the shoulder blades, pushing him into the kitchen. By this time, Jack's reputation had risen to such a height with the populace,—his exploits having become the universal theme of discourse, that the streets were almost impassable for the crowds collected to obtain a view of him. But that Chink, Ah Cum! O'Higgins chuckled as he passed into the hall and rested his hand on the newel-post of the staircase. “I’m so glad you’re here, Peter,” she said.
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