tribe that disposes of its wares almost
entirely by personal canvass, came out into the street and endeavored to
sell us a bullock's heart.

Our quarry's next proceeding was to dive into a public house. We turned
and surveyed one another.

"What are we to do now?" inquired my wife.

"Go inside, too," I replied with more enthusiasm than I had hitherto
displayed. "At least, I think I ought to. You can please yourself."

"I will not be left in the street," said Stella firmly. "We must just
wait here together until he comes out."

"There may be another exit," I objected. "We had better go in. I shall
take something, just to keep up appearances; and you must sit down in
the ladies' bar, or the snug, or whatever they call it."

"Certainly not!" said Stella.

We had arrived at this _impasse_ when the man suddenly reappeared,
wiping his mouth. Instantly and silently we fell in behind him.

For the first time the man appeared to notice our presence. He regarded
us curiously, with a faint gleam of recognition in his eyes, and then
set off down the street at a good pace. We followed, panting. Once or
twice he looked back over his shoulder a little apprehensively, I
thought. But we ploughed on.

"We ought to get there soon at this pace," I gasped. "Hello! He's gone
again!"

"He turned down to the right," said Stella excitedly.

The lust of the chase was fairly on us now. We swung eagerly round the
corner into a quiet by-street. Our man was nowhere to be seen and the
street was almost empty.

"Come on!" said Stella. "He may have turned in somewhere."

We hurried down the street. Suddenly, warned by a newly awakened and
primitive instinct, I looked back. We had overrun our quarry. He had
just emerged from some hiding place and was heading back toward the main
street, looking fearfully over his shoulder. Once more we were in full
cry.

For the next five minutes we practically ran--all three of us. The man
was obviously frightened out of his wits, and kept making frenzied and
spasmodic spurts, from which we surmised that he was getting to the end
of his powers of endurance.

"If only we could overtake him," I said, hauling my exhausted spouse
along by the arm, "we could explain that--"

"He's gone again!" exclaimed Stella.

She was right. The man had turned another corner. We followed him round
hotfoot, and found ourselves in a prim little _cul-de-sac_, with villas
on each side. Across the end of the street ran a