‘Unheard of, ain’t it? To tell the truth, I half expected him to leave everything to one of his doxies. . The envelope might contain only a request as to what he wanted done with the manuscripts. And God had let him do it! He was—and now he perfectly understood that he was—treading the queerest labyrinth a man had ever entered. "Good-b'ye, Jack," said Figg, putting on his hat. "Then you ought to be thankful to me for the warning. “All of which doesn’t help me in the slightest degree to pay back that money.
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