Occasionally the flames would bend, twist and writhe crazily as the punka-boy bestirred himself. ’ Gerald eyed her. Unless there was some real metal in the young fool, some hidden strength with which to breast the current, Ruth would become a millstone around his neck and soon he would become to her an object of pity and contempt. "Oh! if I had known this," he exclaimed, "what guilt, what remorse might have been spared me!" "Repentance comes too late when the deed's done," returned Wild, bitterly. What is your father's business?" The question was an impertinence, but Ruth was not aware of that. "Come here," said the petticoated tyrant. "My son! my dear, dear son!" returned Mrs. ’ You mean you hope you do, thought Gerald cynically. Her eyes followed him. It was a tale of battle, murder, and sudden death on the New York waterfront.
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