Ninety-One struck his clenched hand upon the table, and gave utterance to a blasphemous oath.
"News? Hell's full of sich news! Only to think of it! It's enough to set a man to wishin' himself safe in jail again. 'Don't give it up so easy!' That's what I've said all along. An' I have not give it up easy, nayther. And now what's it come to?"
"The Boy,—the son of Gulian Van Huyden," cried Ezekiel, resting his hands upon the table.
Ninety-One sank into a chair and wiped the blood from his face.
"You know I tracked the boy all day until I found his quarters in the four story buildin', whar there was a dead man?—"
"Yes,—yes,—and you came and told me that you had found his home. The people in the room adjoining the one which he occupies, informed you that he had gone out with the young girl, but that he would shortly return. You came and told me, and then went back to his room to await his return, taking with you a letter from me—"
"I went back, and waited, and waited, havin' no company but the dead man, until dark. Then I sallied out, and went to the house, where we all was last night. I'd a hard time to get in, but git in I did,—and jist too late—"
"Too late?—"
"The boy and the gal had been thar, and they'd jist gone. One of the folks in livery show'd me which way,—'down the street toward the river, and only five minutes ago,' says he. Down the street I put, and by this time the snow was fallin' and the wind blowin' a harrycane. Down the street I put, and when I came near the river, I heer'd a woman cry out, 'help! murder!' Mind, I tell you, I lost no time, but made straight for the pier, an' thar I find the gal, wringin' her hands an' p'intin' to the river—"
"And the boy—the son of Gulian?—"