It was not an affair of the conscience; it was vaguely based upon insolence and defiance. “Dear friend,” she said, “this is a matter which you must leave to me to do as I think best. It’s just to feel—one owns one’s self. Impelled by a feeling, into which we shall not pause to inquire, the stranger started after them; but they were better mounted, and soon distanced him. He was afraid if he stayed that he would make a fool of himself. “It’s very good,” she said. . ’ Trodger eyed her with suspicion. His hunger satisfied, his spirits began to revive, and with this change of mood all his natural audacity returned. "But he can't be far off. ILLUSTRATED WITH SCENES FROM THE PHOTOPLAY PRODUCED BY DISTINCTIVE PICTURES CORPORATION NEW YORK GROSSET & DUNLAP PUBLISHERS THE RAGGED EDGE CHAPTER I The Master is inordinately fond of young fools.
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