Purney's hand-writing," said Jack, advancing, "and can at once decide whether this is a forgery or not. " "Who are you?" ejaculated Trenchard, scarcely able to credit his senses. And, if I'd my own way, I'd drown 'em all like a litter o' puppies. " "May be," returned the man gravely. “They seem to come to you as naturally as disappointment—to other people. Once, when he thought he had done so, he smiled an ingratiating smile. “How are those books any different from the witchcraft books?” “I dunno. Spurling attended him as his nurse, and, under her care, he speedily revived. He knew not how to act, urged as he was in two directions.
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