So I couldn't spy on the job.

The bags are still there, aren't they?
He couldn't move them, except under cover of darkness.

He'll come for them to-night ....

He'll be too late." Working, as he cast the fragmentary sentences over his shoulder, Gavin nevertheless glanced often enough at Standish's face to make certain from its foolishly dismayed expression that each of his conjectures was correct.

Now, finishing his task, he demanded: "Your servants?
Are they all right?
Can you trust them?
Your house servants, I mean." "Y--yes," stammered Milo, still battling with the idea of bluffing this calmly authoritative man.