Forthwith he presented his card. "He shan't trouble you further. The clouds were nearly black with rain, threatening to spill sleet in daggers and torrents. It’s that father of yours you take after, no question. They telephoned that you had absconded with ten thousand, and that if I would make good the loss within twenty-four hours, they would not prosecute. You're Mister Wild's pris'ner, and worse luck to it!" "I don't ask you to liberate me," urged Thames; "but will you convey a message for me?" "Where to, honey?" "To Mr.
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