"For the caption!" replied Jackson, coolly drawing a brace of pistols from his pockets. To simplify matters, he carried a coloured paper lantern upon which his license number was painted in Arabic numerals. Apologizing for their detention, he answered the questions put to him respecting the boys, by positively denying that any such prisoners had been entrusted to his charge, but offered to conduct him to every cell in the building to prove the truth of his assertion. “That’s not working so well for you, is it?” She looked at him sheepishly, bringing a Kleenex out of her pocket to wipe away the excess. " "I, Sir!—I swear——" "Tush!" interrupted Jonathan, harshly. "You base ingrate," she added, in a whisper, as she flounced past Mr.
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