It is not well that a daughter should talk to her father as Ruth talked to hers that day. And thus it was that she came upon a book of Stevenson's verse—her first adventure into poetry. "You don't recollect me, I presume?" premised the stranger, taking a seat. Here was one of those Americans who would make him breathless before sundown. A time may come when this little chap will need my aid, and, depend upon it, he shall never want a friend in Owen Wood. Stanley,’ I said. ” “My message is urgent,” he said firmly. "Out of the beaten track, with a real man for an employer? How would that strike you?" Interest shot into Spurlock's eyes; it spread to his wan face. So soft. He figures them out, though. In a few minutes after the delivery of this note he will be in Newgate. ‘Damnation! Too late. “I hope,” said Miss Stanley, with dignity, and turned doorward with features in civil warfare.
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