Suddenly he came to a stop, his mouth agape. Annabel a murderess! It was not possible. In this moment he could have stamped upon the Wastrel's face, and ended the affair; but all that was clean in him, chivalrous, revolted at the thought. "You didn't spend it?" "I never intended to spend it—any more than I really intended to steal it. "Set it down, I tell you," thundered Blueskin, "or I shall do it a mischief. "Is this Misther Wudd's, my pretty miss?" demanded the rough voice of the Irish watchman. "Hands off!" she exclaimed, "or you'll repent it.
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