" "Who's lost?" demanded Ireton. ” “I thought so,” Courtlaw said. ” He said flatly. " "You are heiress to the Trenchard property," rejoined Jonathan, "one of the largest estates in Lancashire. ‘You are dead, you,’ he yelled back, leaping into the seat of the final pew. ’ ‘I know,’ he said, smiling. She was a large, resilient girl, with a foolish smile, a still more foolish expression of earnestness, and a throaty contralto voice. And it's uncanny. I saw it this morning in the Daily Journal—an advertisement, offering a reward—" "A reward!" echoed Jack.
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