Chapter 13

           ‘Where’sOliver?’saidtheJew,risingwithamenacinglook.‘Where’stheboy?’

           Theyoungthieveseyedtheirpreceptorasiftheywerealarmedathisviolence;andlookeduneasilyateachother.Buttheymadenoreply.

           ‘What’sbecomeoftheboy?’saidtheJew,seizingtheDodgertightlybythecollar,andthreateninghimwithhorridimprecations.‘Speakout,orI’llthrottleyou!’

           Mr.Faginlookedsoverymuchinearnest,thatCharleyBates,whodeemeditprudentinallcasestobeonthesafeside,andwhoconceiveditbynomeansimprobablethatitmightbehisturntobethrottledsecond,droppeduponhisknees,andraisedaloud,well-sustained,andcontinuousroarsomethingbetweenamadbullandaspeakingtrumpet.

           ‘Willyouspeak?’thunderedtheJew:shakingtheDodgersomuchthathiskeepinginthebigcoatatall,seemedperfectlymiraculous.

           ‘Why,thetrapshavegothim,andthat’sallaboutit,’saidtheDodger,sullenly.‘Come,letgoo’me,willyou!’And,swinginghimself,atonejerk,cleanoutofthebigcoat,whichheleftintheJew’shands,theDodgersnatchedupthetoastingfork,andmadeapassatthemerryoldgentleman’swaistcoat;which,ifithadtakeneffect,wouldhaveletalittlemoremerrimentout,thancouldhavebeeneasilyreplaced.

           TheJewsteppedbackinthisemergency,withmoreagilitythancouldhavebeenanticipatedinamanofhisapparentdecrepitude;and,seizingupthepot,preparedtohurlitathisassailant’shead.

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