” “And you?” asked David Courtlaw. The detective rapidly sketched the appearance of the room in his notebook, and picked up the pistol from under the table. But also this must not go on. Quilt Arnold was stationed at the stair-head, near which the boat containing the captive boy was moored. His business has thriven; legacies have unexpectedly dropped into his lap; and, to crown all, he has made a large fortune by a lucky speculation in South-Sea stock,—made it, too, where so many others have lost fortunes, your humble servant amongst the number—ha! ha! In a word, Sir, Mr. .
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