Ennison roused himself with an effort, took a long drink from his whisky and soda, and lit a cigarette. I seed he was one,—and a sharp un, too,—at a glance. " "What gives you that idea?" "Well, we could find no letter of credit, no letters, no labels in his clothes—not a single clew to his real identity. I asked you to go. So Ruth found that for a while her eyes were free. “Something. Heigho!" "Now for it!" cried Jack, as the couple entered the room: "the coast's clear. You certainly had to hand it to these Chinks. And a broken picture that was torn when I hit him with it. It had ceased raining, but the atmosphere was moist and chill, and the ground deluged by the recent showers. ‘I thought—I thought I saw my—my husband.
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