“It was him hurt our boy,” she said; “kicked him in th’ side as he laid tied there on th’ floor. Stood over him an’ kicked him in th’ side!”
Jack’s face was livid, and his eyes suffused.
“Are you sure o’ that?” he asked thickly.
“Allan told me.”
“Th’ fiend!” cried Jack. “Th’ divil!” and shook his fists in the air. Then he sat heavily down in his chair, shivering convulsively.
“An’ more’n that,” Mary went on, "he shut th’ boy in th’ station an’ left him there t’ burn," and she repeated the story Allan had just told her.
When she had done, Jack rose unsteadily.
“You say th’ boy’s all right?” he asked.
“Yes—he ain’t got a bit o’ fever.”
“Then I’m goin’ t’ Coalville,” he said. “I couldn’t sleep with th’ thought of that varmint runnin’ loose. I’m goin’ t’ git him.”