"That was the lad's name," returned the stranger. ’ Gerald dropped down to join her just as her hand came up, clutching the handle. "A hundred pounds!" exclaimed Shotbolt. It was she! The Dawn Pearl! He vaulted the veranda rail, careless now whether or not he was heard, and ran down to the beach. "Have you broken out of the cage, Jack?" "Something like it," replied the lad carelessly. Probably a sick man's whim. ’ She thrust him out of the room and made for the stairs. In a voice husky with suppressed despair, she answered. He pressed the bloody wrist into her mouth, and she though she could not feel it or 72 control it, she knew she was being made to swallow. Were I not Jonathan Wild, I'd be Jack Sheppard.
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