sit perfectly placid with your
books among the rains. However, I won't bore you long. Three whiffs
of baccy, and I am off."

"What's the news, then?" asked Smith, cramming a plug of bird's-eye
into his briar with his forefinger.

"Nothing very much. Wilson made 70 for the freshmen against the
eleven. They say that they will play him instead of Buddicomb, for
Buddicomb is clean off colour. He used to be able to bowl a little,
but it's nothing but half-vollies and long hops now."

"Medium right," suggested Smith, with the intense gravity which comes
upon a 'varsity man when he speaks of athletics.

"Inclining to fast, with a work from leg. Comes with the arm about
three inches or so. He used to be nasty on a wet wicket. Oh,
by-the-way, have you heard about Long Norton?"

"What's that?"

"He's been attacked."

"Attacked?"

"Yes, just as he was turning out of the High Street, and within a
hundred yards of the gate of Old's."

"But who----"

"Ah, that's the rub! If you said 'what,' you would be more
grammatical. Norton swears that it was not human, and, indeed, from
the scratches on his throat, I should be inclined to agree with him."

"What, then? Have we come down to spooks?"

Abercrombie Smith puffed his scientific contempt.

"Well, no; I don't think that is quite the idea, either. I am inclined
to think that if any showman has lost a great ape lately, and the brute
is in these parts, a jury would find a true bill against it. Norton
passes that way every night, you know, about the same hour. There's a
tree that hangs low over the path--the big elm from Rainy's garden.
Norton thinks the thing dropped on him out of the tree. Anyhow, he was
nearly strangled by two arms, which, he says, were as strong and as
thin as steel bands. He saw nothing; only those beastly arms that
tightened and tightened on him. He yelled his head nearly off, and a
couple of chaps came running, and the thing went over the wall like a
cat. He never got a fair sight of it the whole time. It gave Norton a
shake up, I can tell you. I tell him it has been as good as a change
at the sea-side for him."

"A garrotter, most likely," said Smith.

"Very possibly. Norton says not; but we don't mind what he says. The
garrotter had long nails, and was pretty smart at swinging himself over
walls. By-the-way, your beautiful neighbour would be pleased if he
heard about it. He had a grudge against Norton, and he's not a man,