Mr Squeers made a plunge into the crowd, and at one dive, caught a very little boy, habited still in his night-gear, and the perplexed expression of whose countenance, as he was brought forward, seemed to intimate that he was as yet uncertain whether he was about to be punished or rewarded for the suggestion.

He was not long in doubt.
'You think he has run away, do you, sir ?' demanded Squeers.
'Yes, please sir,' replied the little boy.
'And what, sir,' said Squeers, catching the little boy suddenly by the arms and whisking up his drapery in a most dexterous manner, 'what reason have you to suppose that any boy would want to run away from this establishment?
Eh, sir ?' The child raised a dismal cry, by way of answer, and Mr Squeers, throwing himself into the most favourable attitude for exercising his strength, beat him until the little urchin in his writhings actually rolled out of his hands, when he mercifully allowed him to roll away, as he best could.
'There,' said Squeers.

'Now if any other boy thinks Smike has run away, I shall be glad to have a talk with him.' There was, of course, a profound silence, during which Nicholas showed his disgust as plainly as looks could show it.
'Well, Nickleby,' said Squeers, eyeing him maliciously.

'YOU think he has run away, I suppose ?' 'I think it extremely likely,' replied Nicholas, in a quiet manner.
'Oh, you do, do you ?' sneered Squeers.

'Maybe you know he has ?' 'I know nothing of the kind.' 'He didn't tell you he was going, I suppose, did he ?' sneered Squeers.
'He did not,' replied Nicholas; 'I am very glad he did not, for it would then have been my duty to have warned you in time.' 'Which no doubt you would have been devilish sorry to do,' said Squeers in a taunting fashion.
'I should indeed,' replied Nicholas.