"Quilt!—Mendez!—Where are you?" vociferated Wild, sounding his whistle for the third time. He found the door ajar, and, to his surprise, perceived little Winifred seated at a table, busily engaged in tracing some design upon a sheet of paper. But it would be too risky. Instantly she seized the poker and made a desperate effort to get them out again. “You were going to answer it?” “Certainly not!” she said deliberately. Brendon was silent. But she did not believe he would do that. I don't believe his name is Taber. Without waiting to have the information repeated, Wood rushed forth, determined as soon as he could procure assistance, to proceed to Jonathan Wild's house in the Old Bailey; while Mrs.
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