"Your sympathy is being wasted. " "What's the matter, Ruth?" asked Spurlock, anxiously. You're in luck to-night, widow. " "Who are you!" demanded the fugitive, sternly. Gerald swore. There was nothing to replace the all important letter from her father. She was quite assured that she would never see him again. Of course I ought to have some lights over the saloon; but by leaving all the cabin doors open in the daytime, there's plenty of daylight. She hoped the lights would become hot enough to melt her into the floor. You don’t know. He would have to sit down here in Canton and wait, perhaps for weeks. CHAPTER VIII.
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