The sing-song girl, her fiddle broken, was beating her forehead upon the floor and wailing: Ai, ai! Ai, ai! Spurlock—or Taber, as he called himself—sat slumped in a chair, staring with glazed eyes at nothing, absolutely uninterested in the confusion for which he was primarily accountable. The dining saloon was done in mahogany and sandalwood, with eight cabins, four to port and four to starboard. To make sure work of it, I'll superintend the job myself. ” He panted. Jonathan Wild brought him off. CHAPTER XXII.
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