It was Doctor Ralph, formerly the partner of Doctor Stickell in the Avenue, and now with a thriving practice of his own in Wamblesmith. "Get about your business!" "Thames!" cried Jack, beckoning to his friend. " "But, goodness me, the hotel will take care of him! Why not? They sold him the poison. Servants were passing backwards and forwards with tea and chocolate. "Hear me, Jack!" shrieked his mother. He gave you a poison. I've watched this lad—this Sheppard—from infancy; and, though I have apparently concerned myself little about him, I have never lost sight of my purpose. And shall their wretched offspring live to blight my hopes, and blast my fame? Never!" And, with these words, he grasped Wood by the throat, and, despite his resistance, dragged him to the very verge of the platform. His face was half hidden under a freshly pipeclayed sola topee—sun-helmet.
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