The odds were astounding and yet he had it bad. There was now no honest way of warning Taber that the net had been drawn. " CHAPTER XIX. "I beg your pardon!… A bit rocky this morning…. ” She swept out of the room. 'Slife! you are wonderfully altered. ” Brendon reappeared, followed by a tall thin man with a stubbly brown moustache and restless grey eyes. Standing on tiptoe, on a joint-stool, placed upon the bench, with his back to the door, and a clasp-knife in his hand, this youngster, instead of executing his appointed task, was occupied in carving his name upon a beam, overhead. ’ But she reckoned without the fellow Trodger.
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