He was at length rescued from his assailants,— rescued to perish, seven months afterwards, with every ignominy, at the very gibbet to which he had brought his victim. The Law was around the corner and down the narrow hall, puffing a Virginia Slims Menthol in frantic sips, teetering uncomfortably out of an emergency exit door. "Aw, piffle!" he said, half aloud and rather disgustedly, as he stepped out into the sunshine. Was he pleased?” “Calmly! He said—you won’t mind my telling you?” “Not a bit.
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