broth of a boy. Timmy
Tosswill's a good hater and a good lover, and that's the truth of it! I
wasn't a bit surprised when I got the news that my services wouldn't be
wanted--that the cat wasn't any longer at Old Place."

"D'you mean you don't know what's happened to the horrible creature?" she
exclaimed vexedly.

"That's just what I do mean, Mrs. Crofton. That smart little fellow just
spirited the creature away."

As he spoke, sitting with his back to the window, he was observing his
pretty patient very closely. She had reddened angrily and was biting her
lips. What a little vixen _she_ was, to be sure! And suddenly she saw
what he was thinking.

"I'd like to put a question to you, Mrs. Crofton."

"Do!" she insisted, but his question, when it came, displeased her.

"Is it true that that wasn't the first time you'd had an unpleasant
experience with an animal at Old Place?"

Dr. O'Farrell had not meant to ask his patient this question to-day, but
he really felt curious to know the truth concerning something Godfrey
Radmore had told him that morning.

"Yes," she answered, slowly, "the first time I was in Old Place, Timmy
Tosswill's dog frightened me out of my wits."

"That's very strange," said the doctor, "Flick's such a mild-mannered
dog."

Enid Crofton lifted herself up from her reclining position. "Dr.
O'Farrell! I wouldn't say so to anyone but you, but don't you think
there's something uncanny about Timmy Tosswill? My little maid told me
last night that the village people think he's a kind of--well, I don't
know what to call it!--a kind of boy-witch. She says they're awfully
afraid of him, that they think he can do a mischief to people he doesn't
like." As he said nothing for a moment, she added rather defiantly:--"I
daresay you think it is absurd that I should listen to village gossip,
but the truth is, I've a kind of horror of the child. He terrifies me!"

Dr. O'Farrell looked round the room as if he feared eavesdroppers. He
even got up and went to see if the door was really shut. "That's very
curious," he said thoughtfully. "Very curious indeed. But no, I'm not
thinking you absurd, Mrs. Crofton. The child's a very peculiar child.
Have you ever heard of thought transference?"

She looked at him, astonished. "No," she answered, rather bewildered, "I
haven't an idea what you mean by that."

"Well, you've heard of hypnotism?"

"Oh, yes, but I've never believed in it!"

To that remark he made no answe