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For a few seconds, as he paced the floor, Jones was in the mental condition of a dog in proximity to a hutched badger. Then he began to think clearly. The obvious fact before him was that Voles, the Plinlimons and Mulhausen were a gang; the presumptive fact was that the money paid in blackmail had gone back to Mulhausen, or at least a great part of it. Was Mulhausen the spider of the web?
They had striven desperately to whack the animals to the hedge on either side, and were bawling loud warnings to those thrice accursed gunmen whom they imagined chased by police. Their efforts, their yells, were useless. Sixty miles an hour demands at least sixty yards for safety. When Voles put hand and foot to the brakes he had hardly a clear space of ten.
"You or our East Orange friend might have been killed, it is true, but Voles could not have carried the girl off so easily." Carshaw promptly regretted his bitter comment. "I'm sorry," he said, "but you cannot realize what all this means to me, Steingall." "I think I can. Cheer up; your car is easily recognizable. We have a cyclist known to this young lady in close pursuit.
Voles might have fancied himself chased by the flight of witches who harried Tam o' Shanter, while Carshaw might have been hunting a cargo of ghosts; only the running hum of the cars droned its music along the highway, with a staccato accompaniment of revolver-shots and Winifred's appeals to heaven for aid. Meantime, the rear car still gained on the one in front.
The Voles had destroyed the entire crop in a single night. A miller in the neighbourhood of Velestino reported that he went to his field early one morning, cut a measure of corn, loaded it on his ass, and brought it to his mill. When he returned to his mill with a second load he found scarcely a vestige of the first remaining.
It did not matter to him in the least whether Voles gave Rochester away or not, yet he had fought Voles with all the feeling of the man who is attacked, not of the man who is defending another man from attack. The attitude of Spicer and the other scamp had roused his ire on account of its want of respect for him, the supposed Earl of Rochester.
He nodded to the newcomer, curtly, and without rising from his chair; the servant shut the door and the two men were alone. Just as a dog's whole nature livens at the smell of a pole cat, so did Jones' nature at the sight of Voles. He felt this man to be an enemy. Voles came to the table and placed his hat upon it. Then he turned, went to the door and opened it to see if the servant was listening.
She could see neither Carshaw nor Aunt Rachel, the one having determined to lie low for a few hours, and the other being hidden from sight already as she hastened through the rain to the small inn where Voles and Mick the Wolf were located. These worthies were out. The proprietor said they had hired a car and gone to Bridgeport.
The Water-rats, or Voles, eat fishes, frogs, and toads, besides other food, and do infinite mischief to banks and dams, which they undermine. Their smell is so acute, that they will not approach a trap over which a hand has been passed; and they are particularly abundant in all places where herrings are cured, leaving them when the season is over.
Rochester had evidently paid it to shield not only his own name, but the name of a woman. "Most interesting," said Voles. "I'm glad you think so " Then in a burst, "Come, open that door and stop this nonsense take that key out of your pocket and open the door.
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