If ever I catch you round here again or anywhere else on such an errand, I'll shoot you like a dog.

Now be off." The boy bounded away with a broad grin of relief.

Trent walked up to the house and asked for the missionary's wife.

She came to him soon, in what was called the parlour.

A frail, anaemic-looking woman with tired eyes and weary expression.
"I'm sorry to trouble you, Mrs.Price," Trent said, plunging at once into his subject, "but I want to speak to you about this old man, Monty.
You've had him some time now, haven't you ?" "About four years," she answered.