J. Bout

Mac quietly tiptoed out the door on the second floor and slid down a greasy rope. He looked furtively around him and put his fingers between his teeth, letting out a sharp whistle that could be heard throughout the slums. Soon some thin, lanky boys came running around the corner. Curious, they stood by their leader. In a dark alley of the London slums the boys were being instructed in how they could see to it that the Bibles being smuggled into the country did not end up on a burn pile…