CHAPTER I. “Your father,” he said, “remarked that all’s well that ends well, and that he was disposed to let bygones be bygones. It might be that the boy had taken one drink too many, or someone had given him knock-out drops. Meanwhile, the excitement of the chase had in some degree subsided. It was an unspoken curfew in the Beck house on week nights. His brain reeled. He was now at the entrance of the chapel, and striking the door over which he had previously climbed a violent blow with the bar, it flew open. One with the appearance of a bald little gnome yawned agonizingly. "Then take her back," said the manager.
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