She opened it and drew out a letter, and folded within it were the notes she had sent off to Ramage that day. A young man —almost a boy, slight, dark, and with his brother’s deep grey eyes—came across the room to her. "A capital instrument for my purpose," thought Jack, shouldering it, "and worth all the trouble I have had in procuring it. Lucy stepped inside. "Fire!—murder—thieves!—I've got one of 'em!" "Come along," cried Jack. It was dawn: Cathy would soon be off to the restaurant and Larry off to paint a house.
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