I know nothing about this affair, but some one has been burning documents. Wood heard the cry. A ragged gray moustache drooped from the corners of his mouth and a ragged wisp of whisker hung from his chin. Annabel thought, and thought again. Headed by Jonathan, all the turnkeys then repaired to the upper part of the jail, and, approaching the Red Room by a circuitous route, several doors were unlocked, and they came upon the scene of Jack's exploits. He was not, it seemed, the proper stipendiary at all, and there had been some demur to his jurisdiction that had ruffled him.
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