” He strode away and vanished in the gathering fog. To-morrow at twelve I'll be with you, Mr. Purney's hand-writing," said Jack, advancing, "and can at once decide whether this is a forgery or not. I followed you home on the train. "Good-b'ye, Jack," said Figg, putting on his hat. His wife met him at the door, and into her hands he delivered his little charge. She really must not go to that affair. Died short, I suppose, and the girls had to shift for themselves. . "Well, Jack," said the prize-fighter, in a rough, but friendly voice, and with a cutand-thrust abrupt manner peculiar to himself; "how are you, lad, eh? Sorry to see you here. "Those tears will do you good. F.
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