Sheppard," cried the thief-taker, as he slipped a pair of handcuffs over Jack's wrists, "for the help you have given us in capturing your son. Where the stuff came from was always a mystery. Stanley, produced a portrait from its hiding-place in the jewel-drawer under the mirror. “Are you speaking to me?” she asked calmly. The shops were lighting up into gigantic lanterns of color, the street lamps were glowing into existence, and she had lost her way. I was mean to him. Tom swore he hadn't set eyes on him since the trial. I’d come back from the ends of the earth. " "Is she alive?" repeated the widow. CHAPTER VI. But no more of that.
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