The picturesque scoundrel had the true gift; and Spurlock was filled with pity at the thought of such genius gone to pot. He seized a tray, squatted on the floor, and imitated the tom-tom. "You'd better surrender quietly, Jack," he cried; "you've no chance. ” Anna drew out her purse at once. ‘It did not seem to me that it was so. Don’t be afraid that I shall stunt it. I take their life. Why on earth couldn’t he leave her to grow in her own way? Her pride rose at the bare thought of return. "Leave me to my fate," rejoined Jack.
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