"It only leads to the fencing crib," replied Wild. He stooped to recover it, and his face was hidden. " "Of course—of course," returned Wood, hastily; "anything's better than that. ‘Good, good—and not before time,’ muttered Roding, glancing round again. Picked up the photograph, looked at it, handed it back, and never batted an eye! The act was as clear as daylight, but the motive was as profoundly mysterious as the race itself. Promise me. She was wholly unable to conceal her knowledge of his presence. “Concern me!” she repeated fiercely.
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