" Mr. Somebody ought to talk to him, warn him. "I generally do," replied Blueskin, pouring out a bumper of sack. " "To-morrow will be too late," replied the widow, in a hollow voice, "I feel it will. They tracked the fugitive to the Mint; but, like hounds at fault, they here lost all scent of their prey. We already had a place to mislay blame. But it was now too late to turn back, and, nerving himself for the shock he expected to encounter, he ventured after his conductor. Don’t think I can’t sympathize and understand. Bowing to the stranger, the woollen-draper very politely requested to know his business. Her soft brown eyes, inherited from Larry, warmed an already pretty face.
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