I was to blame to carry the matter so far. "My son," she murmured, wringing her hands piteously—, "my son the companion of thieves! My son in Jonathan Wild's power! It cannot be. Thus, more and more Ruth turned to the mongrel dog who bore the name of Rollo unflinchingly—the dog that adored her openly, shamelessly, who now without a whimper took his diurnal tubbing. ILLUSTRATED WITH SCENES FROM THE PHOTOPLAY PRODUCED BY DISTINCTIVE PICTURES CORPORATION NEW YORK GROSSET & DUNLAP PUBLISHERS THE RAGGED EDGE CHAPTER I The Master is inordinately fond of young fools. ’ ‘No, you are a gentleman,’ she agreed. The door into the passage offered itself with an irresistible invitation—the one alternative to a public, inexplicable passion of weeping. All her protests seemed stifled before she could find words to utter them. To these she added the wine and spirits directed, and when all was arranged looked inquisitively at her master. I made her my unwilling confederate. " "That's frank enough," the doctor admitted astonishedly. But her cries, instead of moving her assailant's compassion, only added to his fury. All about her, hither and yon, lay the enticing Unknown. "You must be a cleverer lad than even I take you for, if you get out of this place. "On Friday," he replied. " "Be pleased, then, in future not to let your surprise find vent in words," rejoined Jonathan, sternly.
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