Wait a little; rest. "He is dying?" whispered Ruth. No blowzy barmaids for him to-day: an American bar-keep to whom he could tell his troubles and receive the proper meed of sympathy. “She has lost something,” he declared, “something which brought the men in crowds around the stage at the ‘Ambassador’s. “But if you knew anything of that—” “I did. Politely Ah Cum stooped and recovered the photograph. ‘Silence,’ he warned again, with a prod of the dagger at her heart. She saw Lucy darkening her doorstep and stood from the recliner. Drawing a pistol, and unclosing his lantern with the quickness of thought, he then burst through an open trap-door into a small loft. The two lovers sat together, and their sole discourse turned upon Jack and his ill-fated mother.
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