Here was a poor half-naked creature, with a straw crown on his head, and a wooden sceptre in his hand, seated on the ground with all the dignity of a monarch on his throne. She could hear the bell tinkle as the horse shook its head. The doors were closed and barricaded, and the mob threatened to burst them open if Jack was not delivered to them. Her aunt went off at a tangent. "Safe!" shouted Darrell, as he effected a secure landing. \"Shoes!!\" Michelle's mother cried. Phillips Oppenheim’s most intriguing stories.
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