" Trenchard took up a pen. From the window he saw The Tigress faring toward Copeley's! Then somebody was coming? Some political high muckamuck, probably. He was yellow and coarse of hair; flea-bitten, too; and even as he smiled at Ruth and wagged his stumpy tail, he was forced to turn savagely upon one of these disturbers who had no sense of the fitness of things. I beg that you will consider me your friend. Beware of him, my son! Beware of him! You know not what villany he is capable of. He roused curiosities. “I saw—they knocked off your fetters yesterday.
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