“Where am I?” he muttered. ” Another differed. Lonesomeness isn't my worry. As it happens sometimes, the idea stepped down from the dream into the reality; and he saw it more clearly now than he had seen it in the dream. Down that on the right the young culprit was dragged—along that on the left a fainting woman was borne in the arms of several females. "Them's catchpoles, I s'pose, Sir, arter the gemman with a writ?" he observed. He's passed through some rough mental torture. " "Thank God for that!" cried Wood, heartily.
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