e neighbourhood at
night in the hope of tracing the criminal. On the way up Sir John
remembered hearing of you in connection with Department Z and, as he
was not satisfied with his call at Scotland Yard, he decided to come
on here and place the matter in your hands."

"This is the twenty-ninth maiming?" Malcolm Sage remarked, as he
proceeded to add a graveyard to the church.

"Yes, the first occurred some two years ago." Then, as if suddenly
realising what Malcolm Sage's question implied, he added: "You have
interested yourself in the affair?"

"Yes," was the reply. "Tell me what has been done."

"The police seem utterly at fault," continued Mr. Callice. "Locally
we have organised watch-parties. My boys and I have been out night
after night; but without result. I am a scout-master," he explained.

"The poor beasts' sufferings are terrible," he continued after a
slight pause. "It is a return to barbarism;" again there was the
throb of indignation in his voice.

"You have discovered nothing?"

"Nothing," was the response, uttered in a tone of deep despondency.
"We have even tried bloodhounds; but without result."

"And now I want you to take up the matter, and don't spare expense,"
burst out Sir John, unable to contain himself longer.

"I will consider the proposal and let you know," said Malcolm Sage,
evenly. "As it is, my time is fully occupied at present; but
later----" He never lost an opportunity of resenting aggression by
emphasising the democratic tendency of the times. Mr. Llewellyn John
had called it "incipient Bolshevism."

"Later!" cried Sir John in consternation. "Why, dammit, sir! there
won't be an animal left in the county. This thing has been going on
for two years now, and those damn fools at Scotland Yard----"

"If it were not for Scotland Yard," said Malcolm Sage quietly, as he
proceeded to shingle the roof of the church, the graveyard having
proved a failure, "we should probably have to sleep at night with
pistols under our pillows."

"Eh!" Sir John looked across at him with a startled expression.

"Scotland Yard is the head-quarters of the most efficient and
highly-organised police force in the world," was the quiet reply.

"But, dammit! if they're so clever why don't they put a stop to this
torturing of poor dumb beasts?" cried the general indignantly. "I've
shown them the man. It's Hinds; I know it. I've just been to see
that fellow Wensdale. Why, dammit! he ought to be cashiered, an