His diminutive hand flew out from behind his back like a wounded bird. She wondered who the girl might belong to as she patted dirt over the shallow grave. One trouble, however, shot its slanting bolts athwart the shining warmth of that opening day and marred its perfection, and that was the thought of her father. This was the body of a man, apparently lifeless, and stretched upon a mattress, with his head bound up in a linen cloth, through which the blood had oosed. ’ ‘The tables, they are turned, I think,’ she returned. I have never in my life been so much puzzled by any one as by your sister. . Alors, how did you get in?’ ‘Oh, we broke in,’ Gerald told her cheerfully. A ragged gray moustache drooped from the corners of his mouth and a ragged wisp of whisker hung from his chin. Sheppard. Perhaps an hour passed before she laid aside the book.
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