Democratic watchman. (Bellefonte, Pa.) 1855-1940, July 01, 1921, Image 2

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    ~ Bull-Dog
The Adventures of a
Demobilized Officer Who
Found Peace Dull
Copyright by Gee. H. Doran Ce.
(Continued from last week.)
For a while he stared in front of
him, lost in his dream of pleasant |
anticipation ; then, with a short laugh,
he pulled himself together.
“Quite a few people have thought
the same, Captain,” he remarked,
“and there he is—still drinking hign-
“You say he was with a crowd of Lat a back enirdnce
revolutionaries last night. What do
you mean exactly?’
“Bolshevists, Anarchists, members
of the Do-no-work-and-have-all-the-
money brigade,” answered Hugh.
“But excuse me a moment.
A man who had been hovering
round cume up promptly.
“Four of ’em, Ted,” said Hugh in
a rapid undertone. “Frenchman with
| SR ia
“Righto, Old Bean!” Returned the
" Waiter, “but Don’t Hope for Too
a beard, a Yank, and two Boches. Do
your best.”
“Right-0, old bean!” returned the
waiter, “but don’t hope for too much.”
He disappeared unobtrusively into
the restaurant, and Hugh turned with
a laugh to the American, who was
staring at him in amazement.
“Who the devil is that guy?’ asked
the detective.
“Ted Jernmngham—son of Sir Pat-
rick Jerningham Bart. and Lady Jern-
ingham, of Jerningham hall, Rutland,
Euoglund,” answered Hugh, still grin-
ning. “We may be crude in our
methods, Mr. Green, but you must ad-
mit we do our best. Incidentally, if
you want to know, your friend Mr.
Potts is at present tucked between
the sheets at that very house. He
went there by airplane this morning.”
He waved a hand toward Jerry.
was the pilot.”
The American was shaking his head
a little dazedly.
little worry is; we've then got to stop
it— some old how. Now, does noth-
ing sort of strike you?” He looked
keenly at the soldier. “Revolution-
aries, Bolshevists, paid agitators last
night; international financiers this
evening. Why, the broad outline of
the plan is as plain as the nose on
your face; and it’s just the sort of
game that man would love. . . .”
The detective stared thoughtfully at
the end of his cigar, and a look of
comprehension began to dawn on
Hugh’s face.
“Great Scott! Mr. Green,” he said,
“I'm beginning to get you. What was
defeating me was, why two men like
Peterson and Lakington should be
mixed up with last night's crowd.”
“Lakington ! Who's Lakington?”
asked the other quickly.
“Number Two in the combine,” said
Hugh, “and a nasty man.”
“Well, we'll leave him out for the
moment,” said the American. “Doesn’t
it strike you that there are quite a
number of people in this world who
would benefit if England became a
sort of second Russia? That such a
thing would be worth money—big
money? That such.a thing would be
worth paying through the nose for?
Jt would have to be done properly;
your small strike here, and your small
strike there, ain't no manner of use.
Swe gigantic syndicalist strike all over
your country—that's what Peterson's
playing for, I'll stake my bottom dol-
lar. How he’s doing it is apother mat-
ter. But he's in with the big finan-
clers: and he's using the tub-thump-
ing Bolghies as tools. Gag! It's a
“We've got to get |
busy on what your friend Peterson's
big scheme”— he puffed twice at his
cigar—"“a durned big scheme. Your
little old country, captain, is, saving
one, the finest on God's earth ; but she’s
in a funny mood. She's sick, like
most of us are; maybe she’s a little
bit sicker than a good raany people
think. Put I reckon Peterson's cure
won't do any manner of good, except-
ing to himself and ‘those b.amed cap-
italists who are putting up the dol-
“Then where the devil doer Potts
come in,” eaid Hugh, who had Hs
tened intently to every word the Am-
erican had said. “And the duchess of
Lampshire’s pearls?”
“Pearls!” began the American, when
the restaurant door opened suddenly
and Ted Jerningham emerged. He
seemed to be in a hurry, and Hugh
half rose in his chair. Then he sat
back again, as with miraculous rapid-
ity a crowd of infuriated head waiters
and other great ones appeared from
nowhere and surrounded Jerningham,
Undoubtedly this was not the way
for a waiter to leave the hotel—even
if he had just been discovered as an
impostor and sacked on the spot. And
undoubtedly if he had been a waiter,
this large body of scandalized beings
would have removed him expeditiously
ttrough some secret buttery-hatch,
and dropped him on the pavement out
Just opposite Hugh he halted, and
in a clear voice addressed no one in
“You're spotted.
Look out. Legder
Waiter.” | t Godalming.”
Then, engulfed once more in the
crowd, he continued his majestic pro-
gress, and finzlly disappeared a little
abruptly from view.
“Cryptic,” murmured the American,
“but some lad. Gee! He had that
bunch guessing.”
“The ledger ‘at Gddalming,” said
Hugh thoughtfully. “I watched P’eter-
gon, through the skylight last night,
getting gay with that ledger. I'm think-
ing we'll have to look inside it, Mr.
Green. What about a little dipner at
Maxim's? I'm thinking we've found
out all we're likely to find, until we
can get to that ledger. And ‘tnanke
to your knowing those birds, Mr.
Green, our trip to Paris has been of
| considerable value.”
. The American nodded.
“I guess I'm on,” he remarked slow-
ly; “but, if you take my advice, cap-
tain, you'll look nippy tonight, 1
wouldn't linger around corners admir-
ing the mud. Things kind o' happen
*| at corners.”
But on this particular evening the
detective proved wrong. They reached
Maxim’s without mishap, they enjoyed
an excellent dinner, during which the
American showed himself to be a horn
conversationalist, as well as a shrewd
man of the world. And over the cof-
fee and liquors Hugh gave him a brief
outline of what had taken place since
he first got mixed up in the affair.
The American listened ip silence,
| though amazement shone on his face
as the story proceeded. Only when
Hugh had finished, and early arrivals
for supper were beginning to fill the
restaurant, did he sum up the motter
as he saw it.
“A tough proposition, captain—d—d
tough. Potts is our biggest shipping
man, but where he comes on the pic-
Pw 1 ry RNRSe
“A Tough Proposition, Captain—
D—d Tough.”
ture at that moment has me beat. As
for the old girl's jewels, they don’t
seem to fit in at all. All we can do
is to put our noses inside that ledger,
and see the book of the words. It'll
sure help some.”
And as Hugh switched off the elec-
tric light in his bedroom, having first
seen that his torch was ready to hand
in case of emergency, he was think-
ing of the detective’s words. Getting
hold of the ledger was not going to be
easy—far from it; but the excitement
of the chase had fairly obsessed him
by now. He lay in bed, turning over
tn his mind every possible and im-
possible: scheme by which he could
get into the secret center room at The:
Elms. He knew the safe thie“ Tedger
was kept in; but safes are awkward
propositions for the ordinary mortal
to tackle. Anyway, it wasn't a thing
which could be done in a minute's
visit; he would have to manage at
least a quarter or half an hour’s un-
‘dark, ‘skinny hand pitting somethin
‘|'in the tube, and then:he switched off
the torch: and ducked; ‘Just as another’
disturned search, the thought of which, | human. and with that realization IT |
with his knowledge of the habits of
the hcusehold, almust made him laugh |
out load, And, at ‘that moment, a
fly pinzed past his head . . . i
He felt singularly . ‘wideawake, and,
efter a while, he gave up attempting
to go to sleep. The new development
which hod come to light that evening
was uppermost in his thoughts; and,
as he lay tlere, covered only with a
sheet, for tte night wus hot, the
whole vile scheme unfolded itself be-
fore his imagination. The Americun
was rizht ip his main idea—of that
he had no doubt: and in his minds
eve he saw the great crowds of idle,
foolish men Jed by a few hot-headed
visionaries and paid blackguards to
their so-called Utopia. Starvation,
misery, ruin. utter and complete,
lurked in his mental picture; speciers
disguised as great ideals, but grinning
sardonically under their masks, And
once again he seemed to hear the toe-
toc of machine-guns, as he had heard
them night after night during the
years gone by. But this time they
were mounted on the pavement of
the towns. of England, and the swish
of the bullets, which ‘hid ‘swept like
| swarms of cock- clinfers over Nu Man's
Land: now: whi stled down’ the Streets
between rows of squalid heases.. ©.
And once again a fly pinged past his
With a gesture of annoyunce
waved his arm. It was hot-—insuf-
ferably hot, end he was beginning to
regret that he had followed the earnest
advice of the American to sleep with
his windows shut and bolted. What
on earth could Peterson do to him in
a room at the Ritz? But he hud prom-
ised the detective, and there it was—
enrtains drawn, window bolted, door
locked, Moreover, end |e smiied grim-
ly to himself as he remembered it, he
had even gone so far as to emulate
the hysterical maiden lady of fieion
and peer under the bed.
The next moment the Shile ceused
ahruptiy. and he lay rigid, with every
nerve alert. Something had moved in
the room. . . .
It had only been a tiny movement,
more like the sudden creak of a piece
of furniture than anything else—hut
it was not quite like it. A -geutle,
slithering sound had preceded the
creak ; the sound such as a man would
make who, with infinite precaution
againkt waking a poise, was moving
in a dark room; a stealthy, uncanny
noise. Hugh peered into the darkness
tensely. After the first moment of
surprise his brain was quite ccol. He
had Jooked under the bed, he had
hung his coat in the cupboard, and
save for those two obvious places there
was no cover for a cat. And yet, with
the sort of sixth sense that four years
of war had given him, he “new that
noise had heen made by some human
agency. Human! The though: a7 the
cobra at The Elms flashed izte his
mind, and his mouth set more giti.nly.
What if Peterson had introcv.ced ome
of his abominable menagerie into the
room? , . . Then, once more, ihe thing
like a fly sounded loud in Lis ear.
And, was it his imagination, 6r ad
he heard a faint sibilant hiss just he-
Suddenly it struck him that he was
at a terrible disadvantage. The thing,
whatever it was, knew, at any rate
approximately, his position: he had
not the slightest notion where It was.
And a blind man boxing a man who
could see, would have felt just about
as safe. With Hugh, such a conclu-
slon meant instant action. It might
he dangerous on the floor; it most cer-
tainly was far more so in bed. He
felt for his torch, and then, with one
conclusive bound, he was standing by
the door, with his hand on the electric-
light switch.
Then.he.papsed and’ listened ‘intent-
thing. whatever it was, bad become
‘motionless a: his sudden moVement.
For an appreciable time he stood there,
his eves searching the darkness—but
even he could see nothing, and he.
cursed the American comprehensively
under his breath. He would have given
anything for even the faintest grey
light, so that he could have some idea
of what it was and where it was. Now
he fel: utterly helpless, while every
moment he imagined some slimy,
crawling brute touching his bare
feet—creeping up on him. . .. He
pulled himself together sharply. Light
was essential, and at once. But, if
he switched it on, there would be a
moment when the thing would see
him before he could see the thing—
and such moments are not helpful.
There only remained his torch; and
on the Ancre, on one occasion, ne had
saved his life by ite judicious use. The
man behind one of those useful impie-
mente is in blackness far more im-
penetrable than the blackest night, for
the map in front is dazzled. He can
only shoot at the torch: wherefore
hold it to one Side and in front of
you. . ..
The light is “out, darting round
the room, Ping! Something hit the
sleeve of nis pajamas, but still he
could see nothing. The bed, with the
clothes thrown back; the washstand;
the chair with his trousers and shirt—
everything was as it had been when he
turned in. And then he heard a sec-
ond sound—distinet and clear. It came
from higb up, near the ceiling, and
the beam caught the big cupboard and
traveled up. It reached the top, and
rested there, fixed-angd steady. Framed
in the middle of it, peering over the
edge, was a little‘hgirlgss, brown face,’
bolding what looked like a- tube in its
mouth. Hugh had, gne glimpse of 8
fly pinged over. ‘his bead ‘and hit the
wall. behind. :
One thing, pr rate, was certain:
the other occupant of the room was’
7 fost.
Not a sound could he: ‘hear | the’
i bis nerve returned. There would he
time ‘enotigh later on to find out how
he got there, and what those strange
i pinging noises had been caused hv
Pdust at“that’ moment ‘only one thing
was on ihe program: and witLout ¢
sound he crept round the bed toward
the cupboard, to put that one thiLg in-
to cffect in his usuval direct man er.
Tice did he hear the liftle whiz
ling hiss froin above, but nothing sang
past his head, Evidently the man bad
Jost him. and was probadly stili alm-
tng at the door. And thea. with hands
that barely touched it, he felt the out-
lines of the cupboard.
it was standing an Inch or two from
the wall, and he slipped his fingers be-
lind the back on one side. He lis-
tened for a moment, but no movement
came from above; then, half facing the
well, he put one leg against it. There
wos one quick, tremendous heave: a
crash which sounded deafening: then
silence. And once again he switched
on his torch. , .
Lying on the floor by the window
was one of the smallest men he had
ever seen. He was a native of sorts,
and Hugh turned him: over with his
He ‘was quite unconscious, and
the bump on his bead, where it had
hit the floor, was rapidly swelling to
the size of a large orange. In his
band he still clutched the little tube,
and Hugh gingerly removed it. Placed
in position at one end was a long
splinter of wood, with a sharpened
point: and by the light of his torch
Hugh saw that it was faintly dis-
colored with some brown stain.
He was still examining it with in-
terest, when a thunderous knock came
on the door. He strolled over and
switched on the electric light; then he
opened the door,
An excited night-porter rushed in,
followed by two or three other people
in varying stages of undress, and
stopped in amazement at the scene.
The heavy cupboard, with a great
crack across the back, lay face down-
ward on the floor; the native still lay
curled up and motionless.
“One of the hotel pets?’ queried
Hugh pleasantly, lighting a cigarette.
“If it’s..all the same to you, I wish
“If It's All the Same to You, | Wish
. You'd Remove Him.”
you'd remove him. He was—ah—find-
ing it uncomfortable on the top of the
It ‘appeared that the . pight-porter
could speak: English ;.it also appeared
‘that the lady occupying the room be-
low had rushed forth demanding to
be led to the basement, under the mis-
apprehension that war had again been
declared and the Germans were bomb-
ing Paris. And then, to crown every-
thing, while the uproar was at its
height, the native on the floor, open-
ing one beady and somewhat dazed
eye, realized that things looked un-
for a while; then, like a rabbit which
has almost been trodden on, he dodged
between the legs of the men in the
room, and vanished through the open
door. Taken by surprise, for a mo-
ment no one moved: then, simultane-
ously, they dashed into the passage.
It was empty, and Hugh, glancing up,
saw the American detective advancing
toward them along the corridor.
“What's the trouble, captain?’ he
asked as he joined the group.
“A friend of the management elected
to spend the night on the top of my
cupboard, Mr. Green,” answered Drum-
mond, “and got cramp half-way
through Wh
The American gazed at the wreck-
age in silence. Then he looked at
Hugh, and what he saw on that
worthy’s face apparently ‘decided him
to maintain that policy. In fact, it
was not till the night-porter and his
attendant minions had at last, and
very dubiously, withdrawn, that he
again opened his mouth.
“Looks like a hectic night,” he mur-
mured, “What happened?’ Briefly
Hugh told him what had occurred and
the detective whistled softly.
“Blowpipe and poisoned darts, " he
said shortly, returning the tube to
Drummond. “Narrow escape — d—d
=qrrow! Look at your pillow.”
Hugh looked : embedded in the linen
were four pointed splinters similar te
the one he held in his hand; by the
door were three more, lying on the
laughed ;
engaging little bird,” he
“but ‘nasty to look at”
Unnoticed, he lay ‘“doggo”
fle extracted the little pieces of
wood and carefully placed them in an
einpty match-box.: the tube he put in-
10 his cigarette-casa.
“M'ght come i. handy:
you never
he remarked casually.
“ney might if vou stand quite still,” |
sald the Americuii. with a suddep.
sharp command in his voice. “Don’t
Hegh stood motionless, staring at
the speaker, wha with eyes fixed on
tis right foream. had stepped for-
ward, Fram the loose sleeve of his
peiama coat the “detective gently pulled
another dart and dropped it info the
“Not far off getting you’ that time,
captain,” he cried cheerfully. “Now
you've got the whole blamed outfit.”
It was the Comte de Guy who
boarded the boat express at the Gare
du Nord the next day; it was Carl
Peterson who stepped off the boat ex- |
press at Boulogne. And it was only
: Drummond’s positive assurance which
convinced the American that the two
: hole the door was. flung open,
characters were the same man.
lle was leaning over the side of the
boat reading a telegram when he first
saw Hugh ten minutes after the boat .
had .left the harbor’; and if he had
hoped for a different result to the in-
cident of the night before, no sign of
it showed on his face. Instead be
waved a cheerful greeting to Drum- |
“This is a pleasant surprise,” he re-
marked affabiy. “Fave you been to
Paris, too?”
For a moment Drummond looked at
him narrowly.
or was the man so sure of his power
of disguise that he assumed with cer-
tainty he had not been recognized?
And it suddenly struck Hugh that, |
save for that one tell-tale habit—a
babit which, in all probability, Peter- |!
son himself was unconscious of—he
would not have recognized him.
“Yes,” he answered lightly. “I came
over to see how you behaved your-
self I”
“What a pity 1 didn’t know!” sald
Peterson, with-a good-humored chuckle,
He seemed in’ excellent spirits, as he
carefully tore ‘the telegram - into tiny.
pieces and dropped them overboard.
“We might have had another of our
homely little chats over some supper.
Where did you stay?’
“At the Ritz. And you?”
“] always stop at the Bristol,” an-
swered Peterson, “Quieter than the
Ritz, T think.”
“Walk right in, Mr. Green,” said
Hugh, as, three hours later, they got
out of a taxi in Half Moon street.
“This is my little rabbit-huteh.”
He followed the American up the
stairs, and produced his latchkey. But
before he could éven insert it in the
Peter Darrell stood facing him with
| evident relief in his face.
“Thank the Lord you've come, old
son,” he cried, with a brief look at
the detective. *“There’s something do-
ing down at Godalming I don’t like.”
He followed Hugh into the sitting
“At twelve o'clock today Toby rang
up. He was talking quite ordinarily—
vou know the sort of rot he usually
gets off his chest—when suddenly be
stopped quite short. and said, ‘My God!
What do you want? I could tell he'd ]
looked up, because his voice was muf-
fled. Then there was the sound of a
scuffle, I heard Toby curse, then noth-
ing more. I rang and rang and rang—
no answer.”
“What did you do?’ Drummond,
with a letter in his hand which he
had taken off the mantelpiece, was lis
tening’ grimly.
v “Algy was here. He motored straight .
off to see If he could find" out what
was ‘wrong. I stopped here to tell
you. ”»
“Anything through” from him?”
“Not a word. There's foul play, or
I'll eat my hat.”
But Hugh did not answer. With a
iook on his face which even Peter had
never seen before, he was reading the
letter. It was short and to the point,
but he read it three times before he
“When did this come?” he asked.
“An hour ago,” answered the other.
“I very nearly opened it.”
“Read it,” said Hugh, He handed it
to Peter and went to the door.
“Denny,” he shouted, “I want my
car round at once.” Then he came
back into the room. “If they've hurt
one hair of her head,” he said, his
voice full of a smoldering fury, “I'll
murder that gang one by one with my
bare hands.”
“Say, captain, may I see this let- '
ter?’ said the American; and Hugh '
“ ‘For pity‘'s sake, come at once,”
read the detective aloud. * ‘The bearer .
of this is trustworthy.”
fully picked his teeth,
ing. Do you know her?”
“My fiancee,” sald Hugh shortly.
“Certain?” snapped the American.
“Certain!” cried Hugh. “Of course
I am,
“There is such a thing as forgery,”
remarked the detective dispassionately.
“D—n it, man,” exploded Hugh; “do
you imagine I don’t know my own
girl’s writing?”
“A good many bank cashiers have
mistaken their customers’ writing be-
fore now,” said the other, unmoved.
“I don’t like fit, captain. A girl in
real trouble wouldn't’ put in that bit
edout the bearer.”
“You go to h—1,” remarked Hugh
briefly. “I'm going to Godalming.”
“Well,” drawled the American, “not
knowing Godalming, I don't know who
scores.. But, if you go there—I come
He thought-
“Girl’s writ-
Was it a stupid bluff, !
¢ agonized scream.
I know every curl of every let-
“And. me,”
ing up. . eam . $e
. Hugh ruined, :
| “Not you, old son. If Mr. Green will
| come, Tl be delighted; but 1 want
vou here at headquarters.”
He turned round as his servant put
said. Peter,
his head in at the door.
| “Car here, sir. Do you want a bag
' packed?”
| “No—only my revolver. Are you
; ready, Mr. Green?”
“Sure thing,” said the American. “I
always am.”
| “Then we'll move.” And Peter,
, watching the car resignedly from the
window, saw the American grip his
, seat with both hands, and then raise
, them suddenly in silent prayer, while
| &n elderly lady fled with a scream
to the safety of the area below.
| They did the trip in well under the
: hour, and the detective got out of the
car with a faint sigh of relief.
| Drummond dodged rapidly through
| the bushes on his way to The Larches;
, and when the American finally over-
: took him, he was standing by a side-
door knocking hard on the panels.
| “Seems kind of empty,” said the de-
| tective thoughtfully, as the minutes
- went by and no one came. “Why not
try the’ front ‘deor?”
| “Because it's in sight of the other
house,” said Hugh briefly. “I'm going
to break in.”
He retreated a yard frem the door,
. then, bracing his shoulder, he charged
it once. And the door, as a door, was
not. . . . Rapidly the two men went
| from room to room—bedrooms, serv-
ants’ quarters, even the bathroom.
Eyeryone was empty: not a sound
could be heard in the house. Finally,
| only the dining room remained, and
as they stood by the door looking
i round, the American shifted his chew-
| Ing gum to a new point of vantage.
“Somebody has been rough-housing
by the look of things,” he remarked
| judicially. “Looks like a boozing den
after a thick night.”
“It does,” remarked Hugh grimly,
| taking -in the- disorder - of the room.
| The tablecloth “was “pulled off, the
{telephone lay on the floor. China and
* glass, smashed to. pleces,’ littered ‘the
‘carpet; but” what caught his eye, and
caused him suddenly to step forward
and pick it up, was a plain circle of
glass with a black cord attached to
it through a small hole.
“Algy Longworth’s eyeglass,” he
' muttered, “So he's been caught too.”
And it was at that moment that,
clear and distinct through the still
evening air, they heard a woman's
It came from the
house next door, and then Drummond
darted forward.
“Stop, you young fool,” the Ameri-
can shouted, but he was too late.
He watched Drummond, running
like a stag, cross the lawn and dis- -
appear in the trees. For a second he
Lesitated ; then, with a shrug of square
shoulders, he rapidly left the house by
the way they had entered. And a few
minutes later, Drummond’s car was
skimming back toward London, with
a grim-faced man at the wheel.
And the owner of the car was lying
in blissful unconsciousness in the hall
of The Elms, surrounded by a half a
dozen men.
in Which the Hun Nation Decreases
by One.
+ Diummond had yielded to impulse—
the blind, all-powerful impulse of any
man who is a man to get to the wom-
an he loves if she wants him. As he
had dashed across the lawn to The
Elms, with the American’s warning
ery echoing in. his ears, he had been
incapable of serious thought. Subcon-
sciously he had known that, from ev- |
ery point’ of ‘view, it'was the act of a
‘madman, that he was deliberately put-
._ting his head into what, in all prob-
" ability, was a carefully prepared
noose ; that, from every point of view,
he could help Phyllis better by re-
maining a free agent outside. But
when a girl shrieks, and the man who
loves her hears it, arguments begin
to look tired. And what little caution
might have remained to Hugh com-
pletely vanished as he saw the girl
| watching him with agonized terror in _
| her face, from an upstair window, as
' pe dashed up to the house. It was
.only for a brief second that he saw
her; then she disappeared suddenly,
as if snatched away by some invisible
“I'm coming, darling.” He had given
one wild shout, and hurled himself .
through the door which led into the
. house from the garden. A dazzling
| light of intense brilliance had shone
| in his face, momentarily blinding him ;
then had come a crushing blow on the
' back of his head. One groping, wild
step forward, and Hugh Drummond,
dimly conscious of men all round him,
had pitched forward on his face into
uttér oblivion.
“It’s too easy.” Lakington’s sneer-
ing voice broke the silence, as he
looked vindictively at the unconscious
man. :
“So you have thought before,
Henry,” chuckled Peterson. “And he
always bobs up somehow. If you take
my advice you'll finish him off here
and now, and run no further risks.”
“Kill him while he's unconscious?”
Lakington laughed evilly. “No, Carl,
not under any circumstances what-
ever. He has quite a lengthy score
to pay, and by God! he’s going to pay
‘t this time.” He stepped forward
and kicked Drummond twice in the
ribs with a cold, animal fury.
“Well, don't Kick him when he's
down, guv ‘nor. You'll ‘ave plenty ©
time after.” A hoarse voice from the
circle of men made Lakington look up.
(To he Continued.)