The candle was lighted, and in the struggling ruffian Joe recognized the man who, three months before, had robbed him of his little all.
CHAPTER XXIII
NOT WHOLLY BLACK
“I know this man, Mr. Watson,” said Joe.
“Who is he?”
“He is the same man who robbed me of my money one night about three months ago—the one I told you of.”
For the first time, Rafferty recognized Joe.
“There wasn’t enough to make a fuss about,” he said. “There was only two dollars and a half.”
“It was all I had.”
“Let me up!” said Rafferty, renewing his struggles.
“Joe, have you got a rope?” asked Watson.