"Blueskin," said Ireton. His employer retreated into the further apartment, leaving the door ajar. Then Courtlaw looked across at her with a white puzzled face. " "Never!" replied the woollen-draper; "and if that treacherous rascal, by your side, doesn't make himself scarce quickly, I'll send a bullet through his brain. If he hasn't a job for you, he'll know someone who has. The terrific mental tension of the past few months —that had held his bodily nourishment in a kind of strangulation—became as a dream; and now his vitals responded rapidly to food and air.
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