’ Even as they watched, a shadow passed across one of the apertures. didn’t have to. " "This I do know," continued Jack,—"Jonathan Wild superintends the attack. “After all, it’s our honeymoon. All this muddle to placate his conscience! "Here—quick!" McClintock thrust a cigar into Spurlock's hand. From the portals of the hotel—scarcely fifty yards from the canal—one saw the blank face of the ancient city of Canton. The conflict was of short duration; for Shotbolt was no match for his athletic antagonist. "This gash," he added, pointing to one of the larger scars, "was a wipe from the hanger of Tom Thurland, whom I apprehended for the murder of Mrs.
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