7. "Ah! traitor!" cried Jack, pulling the trigger of his pistol. Mac—the old gossip—knew about everything going on in that part of the world; and if Enschede was anything up to the picture the girl had drawn, McClintock would have heard of him, naturally. It had ceased raining, but the atmosphere was moist and chill, and the ground deluged by the recent showers. "What has put it into your head that your son yet lives?" he asked. She went to the table under the end window at which she had been accustomed to work, and found it swept and garnished with full bottles of re-agents. It is but a wild threat.
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