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“You’re a jolly good little fellow,” he exclaimed, giving his companion a penny by way of reward.
“I’m sorry I haven’t in my power to give you more, but I shan’t forget you. I’ll make it up some other time.”
The boy took the penny and looked wonderingly at the speaker, who presented altogether a different appearance.
“Now, youngster,” said Alf, “you’ve done all I have required of you, and so good-bye. You’ve made a free man of me.”
The little urchin scampered off, and Alf Purvis found himself alone.
CHAPTER XXXVII.
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ALF’S RESOLVE—HIS MEETING WITH THE WHITECHAPEL BIRDCATCHER.
The dinner hour came and passed away, but the inmates of Stoke Ferry Farm saw nothing of Alf Purvis. Mr. Jamblin was surprised at this, for the boy as a rule had always been punctual enough at meal times. The farmer grew fidgetty; he half regretted having made an example of the lad for an offence which, after all, could not be considered to be one of a very grave character.
“That young scapegrace is in his sulks, I expect,” said Jamblin to his daughter. “An’ may be he’s got the hump so strong on him that he’ll be for stoppin’ away for awhile.”