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 mean time lay them in the Tower with the spy who was captured three days ago.'

"We were enamored with even this respite, for Tib declared it was an ill omen to be slaughtered in front of a prosaic blacksmith's shop, and surrounded by the pikemen we were dragged to the little town-hall and thrust inside. 'Hello, spy, where are you?' demanded Tib, sparring neatly to ward off any possible attack, as he endeavored to peer through the darkness.

"‘I say, fellers, I'll admit you're all kings, but for Heaven's sake concede I'm only a drummer from Buffalo!' begged a weak voice, and a tall, thin man, very much frightened, humbly approached us, hat in hand, and stood where the light filtered through the window and made his angular form look willowy.

"‘Odds fish, but ye are petitioning the wrong court. I am only the unhappy Monmouth,' groaned Tib.

"‘Crazy as an owl!' whimpered the drummer. 'Say, King, help me get out of this and I'll send you down the best spring-tooth harrow made.'

"Well, sir, Tib was so intent in trying to recall his Monmouth lines that I had to take the drummer aside and convince him of our good intentions and sanity. But, Lord, sir! he was suspicious. He'd been cooped up for three days and was beginning