That's the way," as his wife followed Dot's example.

"Now--quick, man! I want a word with you." "Obviously," said the magistrate, dryly.

"You needn't say it, thanks all the same.

I'll leave that drink till--afterwards." He straightened his tall figure with an instinctive bracing of the shoulders, and turned to the door.
Jack watched him go with a smile that was not untinged with anxiety, and lifted his glass as the door closed.
"You've got the cards, old feller," he said.

"May you play 'em well!" Fletcher Hill stepped forth into the moonlit night and stood still.