’ ‘Damnation!’ ‘What the devil ails you?’ demanded his friend, striding forward. After all, the Wastrel was in luck: he was alone. "The pocket-book you prigged contained the letters I wanted. They had scarcely gained the adjoining cellar when Jonathan and the Jew rushed past in the direction of the vault. No, never mind about thanking me. We'll have some fun down there at my place, Spurlock; but we'll probably bore your wife to death. Then he turned round and gazed thoughtfully at the particular spot in the fog where Courtlaw had disappeared.
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