" She paused. From beginning to end it was first-hand stuff. I knew that even with your scientific mind, you believe! I knew you would believe! I will likely flee south to Louisiana and make my passage into Mexico. "Fear nothing, Sir," said the man, in a voice which Thames instantly recognised as that of Blueskin. That's the way she strikes me. Mercifully, John had been sick for two of the three days of Thanksgiving week, giving her reprieve from both his presence and the machinations of Katy Pfister, who was always less active on days when he was not around. But to-day he did not get beyond half a dozen desultory start-offs. If he adhered to this policy—to keep away from her inconspicuously—she would forget the name by night, and to-morrow even the bearer of it would sink below the level of recollection. While he was thus occupied, Thames, prompted by an unaccountable feeling of curiosity, took up the penknife which the other had just used, and examined the haft.
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