"It's not very likely that a babby of nine months old will save my life, if I'm to be his friend, as you seem to say, Mrs. To-morrow night —or rather to-night, for we are fast verging on another day—I propose to lure him out of the house by a stratagem which I am sure will prove infallible; and, then, what so easy as to knock him on the head. "This locket," he said, taking a little ornament attached to a black ribband from his breast, and giving it her,—"do you remember it?" "I do—I do!" cried Winifred. I’ve made no mention of guns and daggers or, indeed, any of the more exciting aspects of the business. The conflict was of short duration; for Shotbolt was no match for his athletic antagonist. Probably some woman on the loose; they were as thick as flies over here—dizzy blondes. At the gate opening upon the road leading to Dollis Hill were stationed William Morgan and John Dump.
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