“MY DEAR DAUGHTER,” it ran,—“Here, on the verge of the season of forgiveness I hold out a last hand to you in the hope of a reconciliation. “John, I’m so hungry. But this is not sufficient. Too much, perhaps. White and Miss Ellicot laid each a hand upon his arm, one on either side. She tried not to pant, not to reveal herself, and she began to shake. "I took you for one who wouldn't hesitate to avail himself of any advantage chance might throw in his way," returned the thief-taker, coldly. He handed Ruth a letter.
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