IT SEEMED to Captain Sneed that there was little excuse for his sometime subordinate taking the girl in his arms unless he was properly engaged to her; for Mr Sneed was a stickler for the proprieties, and though during his life he had appeared a score of times in the rôle of rescuer, he had never felt it necessary either to embrace (he called it ‘cuddle’ vulgarly) or to hold the hand of the rescued.
“Don’t tell me now,” said d**k. “We’ll get you some food. Poor child. You must be famished!”
“Wait!”
His hand was gripping the long steel bellpull when she caught it.
“There’s somebody in there,” she said rapidly and almost incoherently. “A strange man. I saw him through the window.”
Disjointedly she described what she had seen, and he did not betray his concern.
“Some tramp,” he suggeste
