"What's the use of wasting a shot?" rejoined Jonathan, savagely. " "What right have you to suppose this, Sir?" demanded Trenchard, sternly. His letter of credit; probably that was it; and, observing the strangeness of the room he was in, his first concern on returning to consciousness would naturally relate to his letter of credit. He tried this sentence with expletives. "I likes to hear vot you says. On the morrow Spurlock (who was unaware that he had offered a prayer) let down the bars to his reserve. Yet I think that he will do it. I overheard them planning your assassination. A pair of startled blue eyes looked up into his.
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