76 J. COLE.

candle from Mrs. Wilson’s hand, I went into
the cellar.

The good doctor was close to me, with
more light, by the aid of which we beheld,
in the far corner, facing us, what seemed to
be a bundle of blankets, from which pro-
truded a head, a horrible red stream surround-
ing it, and flowing, as it were, from the open
mouth, One second brought me close. It
was Joe — Joe, with his poor limbs bound
with cruel ropes, and in his mouth for a gag
they had forced one of those bright red socks
he would always wear. Thank God, it was
only that red sock, and not the horrible red
stream I had feared. He was dead, of course ;
but not such a fearful death as that.

The doctor soon pulled the horrid gag from
his mouth, and the good-natured cabman, who
evidently felt for us, helped to cut the ropes,
and lift up the poor cold little form.

As they lifted him, something that was
in the blankets fell heavily to the ground.
It was poor Bogie’s dead body, stabbed in
many places, each wound enough to have let
out the poor dumb creature’s life.