1715. ” “No fear!” “Then, as we succeed, it will begin to sidle back to us. Kneebone," observed Shotbolt, as he emptied his tenth tumbler; "I'm sure he's meditating an escape, and hopes to accomplish it to-night. And turning again, as if the emotions she had churned up kept her on the move, she paced back to the mantel and there stopped, staring at her own reflection in the tarnished mirror. Then the incredible happened. [Illustration: Distinctive Pictures Photoplay. The manager twisted his moustache. There was a lock, apparently more than a foot wide, strongly plated, and girded to the door with thick iron hoops. .
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