"I want you for the job I spoke of a short time ago, Nab," he said. "And so shall I," replied Edgeworth Bess. Bulging out more in the middle than at the two extremities, it resembled an enormous cask set on its end, —a sort of Heidelberg tun on a large scale,—and this resemblance was increased by the small circular aperture—it hardly deserved to be called a door—pierced, like the bung-hole of a barrell, through the side of the structure, at some distance from the ground, and approached by a flight of wooden steps. "Give me the child, or—" As he spoke the door was thrown open, and Mrs. “Whither away?” he said, very distinctly in a curiously wheedling voice. " "Why not?" "I am a thief, a hunted man. There were too many kills, too many unsolved files in too many cabinets. What he needed most in this hour was a bottle of American rye-whisky and a friendly American bar-keep to talk to. Down there, whisky raises the very devil with white men.
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