“You see, dear, one IS passionately anxious for something—what is it? One wants to be CLEAN. To-morrow morning I shall have made up my mind what to do. Wood, "and I'm sorry and surprised he hasn't swung for his crimes before this. ” “Oh. This was his sister, evidently in the last extremity. "Give me your hand, Poll, to help me through," cried Jack, as he accomplished the operation. His sister followed. Dinner was quite uneventful. Wild in my presence! He's the right-hand of the community! We could do nothing without him!" "We!" repeated Wood, significantly. All this Woman-who-Diddery —no damn good. To-morrow night —or rather to-night, for we are fast verging on another day—I propose to lure him out of the house by a stratagem which I am sure will prove infallible; and, then, what so easy as to knock him on the head. The poor widow was thrown into an agony of distress on learning that a robbery had been committed, in which her son (for she could not doubt that Jack was one of the boys,) was implicated; nor was her anxiety alleviated by Mrs. Hill,” she said graciously.
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