" "Can't ve call for asshistanche?" "And who'll find us, if we do?" rejoined Wild, fiercely. Pure luck! If the boy had grown a moustache or a beard, a needle in the haystack would have been soft work. Jack, whose back was towards it, did not see it; but he heard, from the pitying exclamations of the crowd, that it was in view. All at once her heart began to patter queerly. " "Ha!" exclaimed her son, starting back, as he obeyed her, and disclosed Jonathan Wild. Then began expostulations, preluded by a telegram and headed by her aunt. “It was best for me to know.
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