The sing-song girl, her fiddle broken, was beating her forehead upon the floor and wailing: Ai, ai! Ai, ai! Spurlock—or Taber, as he called himself—sat slumped in a chair, staring with glazed eyes at nothing, absolutely uninterested in the confusion for which he was primarily accountable. But who would pay the ransom? There was no one left in his family. The mere enumeration of the obstacles that existed would have deterred any spirit less daring than Sheppard's from even hazarding the attempt. The boss says to me: 'Higg, here's a guy we want back. ” “By God!” said Manning, making the most of the word, “I suppose it’s fate.
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