"Bring him along, Joe!" said Jackson, in a whisper to his comrade. It seemed to her that her father was in some inexplicable way meaner-looking than she had supposed, and yet also, as unaccountably, appealing. Jerking forward, she jabbed backwards. The thought of going back!—the thought of the unknown out there!—" with a tragic gesture toward the east. “Is that plain?” she asked. " "Not necessarily. I'll turn cracksman, like my father—rob old Wood—he has chests full of money, and I know where they're kept—I'll rob him, and give the swag to you, Poll—I'll—" Jack would have said more; but, losing his balance, he fell to the ground, and, when taken up, he was perfectly insensible.
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