’ ‘If he has a bullet inside of him,’ said the sergeant stolidly, ‘there ain’t no one can take it out better nor me. You simply can't get good oil down there, so I must husband the few drams I carry. She was poor. Come back—you must come back. He answered with the greatest assurance, that he knew nothing whatever of the matter—had seen no pocket-book, and no associate to give up. And I don’t. In the meanwhile, as he talked, he scrutinized her face, ran his eyes over her careless, gracious poise, wondered hard about her. Who’s for a rubber of whist?” Ennison made so many mistakes that he was glad to cut out early in the evening. An ordinary type, of course—” Mrs. " "Your secret?" demanded Trenchard, impatiently.
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