robber, shouting after Toby Crackit who, making the best use of his long legs, was already ahead,—" stop!"
The repetition of the word brought Toby to a dead stand-still, for he was not quite satisfied that he was beyond the range of pistol-shot, and Sikes was in no mood to be played with.
"Bear a hand with the boy," roared Sikes, beckoning furiously to his confederate. "Come back!"
Toby made a show of returning, but yentured in a low voice, broken for want of breath, to intimate considerable reluctance as he came slowly along.
"Quicker!" cried Sikes, laying the boy in a dry ditch at his feet, and drawing a pistol from his pocket. "Don't play the booby with me."
At this moment the noise grew louder, and Sikes again looking round, could discern that the men who had given chase were already climbing the gate of the field in which he stood, and that a couple of dogs were some paces in advance of them.