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THE BANDIT
57
that cloaked him; he detected a scrap of paper pinned to it in the rear. He loosened the paper, and under the street light managed to decipher the writing which it bore.
A faint smile crept to his lips as he read the pencilled words:
I do not love you, Jachin Fell,
The reason why I cannot tell;
But this I know, and know full well,
I do not love you, Jachin Fell!
"Certainly the fellow has wit, if not originality," muttered Mr. Fell, as he carefully stowed away the paper. The writing upon it was in the hand of the Midnight Masquer.
