"Taber," said the manager; "Taber is the name. Chapter XI THE PUZZLEMENT OF NIGEL ENNISON Nigel Ennison walked towards his club the most puzzled man in London. I was stupid—stupid and impulsive beyond measure to burst upon you in this way. Blueskin drew the knife across his throat a second time, widening and deepening the wound; and wrenching back the head to get it into a more favourable position, would infallibly have severed it from the trunk, if the officers, who by this time had recovered from their terror, had not thrown themselves upon him, and withheld him. He looked at it eagerly, but made no movement to take it. “An uncle in New York is dead, and has left him loads of money. ’ Then all at once remembrance made her smile. Slowly a mirthless and very unpleasant smile dawned upon his face.
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