was
some sudden puff of smoke on a railway track far beyond; the crashing
was the shunting of cars, which things, coming coincidentally with a
battle of the frogs, to an ignorant mind would appear to be a
phenomenon in the immediate vicinity. Bearing in mind that this
seemingly real, but impossible, phenomenon could only be due to a
fortuitous concatenation of actual occurrences, Nora was not disturbed
in her mind. Leaving her cart some little distance up the road, in
order that she might not be seen in the undignified position of
pushing it, she walked into Klingenspiel's front yard, bearing her
gift.

The two-story white house of Wilhelm Klingenspiel seemed to be
deserted. Despite the genial season, every door was shut, and so was
every window, so far as Nora could see, for if any windows were open
down stairs, at least the blinds were shut. There were no blinds in
the second story. Looking around in no little disappointment, she was
astonished to see a row of sheds and fences in rear of the house had
been demolished as if struck by a cyclone and that a goodly sized barn
had departed from its normal position and with frame intact was lying
on its side like a toy barn tipped over by a child. As she was gazing
upon this ruinage and striving to conjecture what had caused it, she
heard a voice, muffled and strange, yet distinctly audible, saying:

"Ribot is running amuck, Ribot is running amuck," and looking up she
beheld, darkly visible against the panes of an upper story window, a
human form. As she looked, the form disappeared and presently a person
rushed from the front door, hauled her into the house and upstairs,
where she found herself still holding her cabbage and observing a
short man of a full habit, with a round moon face, illuminated by a
large pair of spectacles that sustained themselves with difficulty
upon a very snub nose. He was nearly bald, yet nevertheless of a
kindly, studious, and astute appearance. One did not need to look
twice to see that Wilhelm Klingenspiel was a scholar.

"What--what--what is the matter?" exclaimed Nora.

"Ribot is running amuck."

"Who is Ribot?"

Klingenspiel was about to answer, when the whole air was filled with
what one would have called a squeal if it had been one fiftieth part
so loud, and over a row of willow bushes across the road leapt an
astounding great creature, twice as large as the largest elephant, and
Nora began to realize that her scientific deductions