" "You shall not stir a footstep. "Where am I?" she cried, passing her hand across her brow. Wood the carpenter. “He must never know,” she would whisper to herself, “he must never know. " "Come, lad; let's have it," said McClintock. . Gay," rejoined Jack. It must be some days before you can arrange for her to make an identification. Listen, you. Your name?" "Owen Wood," replied the carpenter; "I've no reason to be ashamed of it. His face was a little flushed perhaps, and his small, brown eyes were bright. Giving him a wide berth, and keeping her pistol high, she made her way to the door and warily peered through it. His manner was deferential, even eager. It did not seem quite fair.
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