Having accomplished his intent, Gerald let the lad go and had himself driven back to Stratton Street. "Let me look at the paper. Ennison roused himself with an effort, took a long drink from his whisky and soda, and lit a cigarette. Amid this tumult, several men armed with tremendous bludgeons, with their faces besmeared with grease and soot, and otherwise disguised, were observed to be urging the populace to attempt a rescue. Well, after all, he seemed to be turning the subject. " "But I've got to go!" insisted Rollo, in perfectly understandable dog-talk.
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