The room behind was another small antechamber, presumably linking the back rooms. Drink this!” He poured out a glass of wine with a firm hand, and held it to her lips. They tracked the fugitive to the Mint; but, like hounds at fault, they here lost all scent of their prey. Why hadn't he gone on with the girl's story? What instinct had stuffed it back into his throat? Why the inexplicable impulse to hurry this rather pathetic derelict on his way? CHAPTER XV Previous to his illness, Spurlock's mind had been tortured by an appalling worry, so that now, in the process of convalescence, it might be compared to a pool which had been violently stirred: there were indications of subsidence, but there were still strange forms swirling on the surface—whims and fancies which in normal times would never have risen above sub-consciousness. “Does a bear shit in the woods?” He said. They were inscribed with the name RIMBAUER, EMILIO J.
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