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"Whose grave is this?" he inquired of a man who was standing near it. It was a pity he didn't break his neck, for he was hanged within the year. Spurlock stared at Ruth across the rim of his bowl. From the first I could see that neither believed my story. Jack may be capable of much that is wicked, but he would never lift his hand against his friend,—of that I am assured. The little grating in the door, the sense of constant inspection, worried her. He is coming here to tea. He will not come. Set the boy free. That was how she projected it, and in general terms it seemed plausible and possible. At last, he got into a lane, but had not proceeded far when he was again alarmed by the sound of a horse's tread. “Some day,” she answered. " "And why should you care whether she forgave you or not?" Spurlock jumped to his feet, the look of the damned upon his face. With the usual precautions, Austin then departed.

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