"Good night!" "Blueskin," whispered Jack, in his natural tones, as the other passed him, "wait without. The sing-song girl, her fiddle broken, was beating her forehead upon the floor and wailing: Ai, ai! Ai, ai! Spurlock—or Taber, as he called himself—sat slumped in a chair, staring with glazed eyes at nothing, absolutely uninterested in the confusion for which he was primarily accountable. It was John Diedermayer, who had been transformed into a young scholar with a large pair of wire-rimmed eyeglasses on.
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