"Dog!" cried Wild, freeing himself by a powerful effort, and dealing Jack a violent blow with the heavy bludgeon, which knocked him backwards, "you are not yet a match for Jonathan Wild. 'Sdeath! what can I have done with it? Oh! here it is," cried Hogarth, picking it from the ground. "Two hundred pounds!" exclaimed Ireton, "besides the governor's offer—that's three hundred. “I won’t have you quarrelling and crying in the Avenue,” he said.
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