" McClintock preferred to put it thus. If he wants you, let him get you. The sing-song girl, her fiddle broken, was beating her forehead upon the floor and wailing: Ai, ai! Ai, ai! Spurlock—or Taber, as he called himself—sat slumped in a chair, staring with glazed eyes at nothing, absolutely uninterested in the confusion for which he was primarily accountable. A ragged gray moustache drooped from the corners of his mouth and a ragged wisp of whisker hung from his chin. "Your business, Sir?" returned the other, stiffly. He might solve the riddle. Before the question could be answered, a side-door was opened, and a very handsome woman of Amazonian proportions presented herself, and marched familiarly up to Mr. Dear me! if there isn't his knock. "Did you write it?" "No. "Hurrah! come along, Thames; we're free. By and by he ventured to peer into this window. She received into her slack grasp the pistol and dagger, only half aware of taking them. He pulled rein at the sight of her, saluted, and regarded her with his rather too protuberant eyes. Shocked, Melusine shot out of that blanketing warmth of sensation.
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