“Do you know that boy very well, Shar?” Cathy Beck yelled in the general direction of the lavatory. It was such an unexpected stroke of fortune. "Just in time," said the thief-taker. A large body of the constables of Westminster next made their appearance, the chief of whom entered the Lodge, where they were speedily joined by the civic authorities. A beachcomber in embryo, and she had lent a hand through habit as much as through pity. "The ban-dogs!" thundered a tall man, whose stature and former avocations had procured him the nickname of "The long drover of the Borough market. He was astonished. She had not at first the power for concealment. She looked into his eyes, truly noticing their gray color for the first time. “Agreed,” he said with queer exaltation, and his grip tightened on her hand. "These writer chaps are queer birds. "Oh! he'll be after you directly. Get on with it, then. ” “I like the mystical way,” she said. CHAPTER IV.
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