A simple wooden monument was placed over the grave, but without any name or date. Not choosing to hazard so great a fall, Jack turned to examine the building, to see whether any more favourable point of descent presented itself, but could discover nothing but steep walls, without a single available projection. I'll wait for you down here. Two women entered and sat down at the adjoining table. A white man, wandering about the streets of Canton at night, was a challenge to such a catastrophe. It was still too dark for reading, but she could see well enough to note the number of the last page—fifty-six. You have set out to do something which is neither God's way nor man's. Howard Taber. I shall lose my fees and the laced coat.
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