You may be lonesome in the dead hours, for, as you may imagine, we, your dearest friends, will be off about a certain business that is known to you, if I mistake not in believing that you have listened at the door these many nights.

When we next gather in the room beyond, a new dispensation will have begun.

You may be interested then to hear what we have to say--out there." Truxton was silent for a moment, a sudden, swift thought flooding his brain.

Controlling the quiver of anticipation in his voice, he took occasion to say: "I only hope you'll not forget to come back.

I should be lonesome, Spantz." "Oh, we'll not forget you." "I suppose not.