‘Bon. "And so I want the boy out of the way," he concluded. " No sooner had Wood crept through the window, than nature gave way, and he fainted. There is Mr. ’ ‘It’s not that,’ the nun said urgently, ‘but I’ve remembered something important. Kneebone," observed Shotbolt, as he emptied his tenth tumbler; "I'm sure he's meditating an escape, and hopes to accomplish it to-night. He could talk to her as frankly as he could to a man, that she would not take offence at anything so long as it was in the form of explanation. Past her shot the little old lady in the bonnet, running incredibly fast, but otherwise still alertly respectable, and she was making a strange threatening sound as she ran, such as one would use in driving ducks out of a garden—“B-rr-r-r-r—!” and pawing with black-gloved hands. \" He panted, wiping sweat off of his brow with a towel.
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