"Nothing whatever," rejoined the thief-taker, coldly. " So saying, he re-entered the house, closed the door, and, followed by the widow, proceeded to the fire-place, where a handful of chips, apparently just lighted, crackled within the rusty grate. The chief influence was her awakening sense of the need of money. I ——” He stopped short. ‘Unheard of, ain’t it? To tell the truth, I half expected him to leave everything to one of his doxies. Gerald? But could he be here so quickly? She hastily dabbed at her eyes, thankful for the darkness that she saw had come on outside unnoticed, dimming the room. Jack Kimble.
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