twisted into two fine points. There was about his whole
person an indefinable air of self-complacent satisfaction, but he
carried his personality in his moustache, so to speak, which, though
small, as I say, and precise to a hair, yet obtruded itself upon one in
a vaguely unpleasant way. Noticing all this, I thought I might make a
very good guess as to his identity if need were.

All at once, as I watched him--like a bird rising from her nest--the
devoted Panama rose in the air, turned over once or twice and fluttered
(I use the word figuratively) into a bramble bush. Bad language was
writ large in every line of his body as he stood looking about him, the
hunting-crop quivering in his grasp.

It was at this precise juncture that his eye encountered me, and
pausing only to recover his unfortunate headgear, he strode toward
where I sat, "Do you know anything about this?" he inquired in a
somewhat aggressive manner, holding up a length of black thread.

"A piece of ordinary pack-thread," I answered, affecting to examine it
with a critical eye.

"Do you know anything about it?" he said again, evidently in a very bad
temper.

"Sir," I answered, "I do not."

"Because if I thought you did--"

"Sir." I broke in, "you'll excuse me, but that seems a very remarkable
hat of yours.

"I repeat if I thought you did--"

"Of course," I went on, "each to his taste, but personally I prefer one
with less 'gymnastic' and more 'stay-at-home, qualities."

The hunting-crop was raised threateningly.

"Mr. Selwyn?" I inquired in a conversational tone.

The hunting-crop hesitated and was lowered.

"Well, sir?"

"Ah, I thought so," I said, bowing; "permit me to trespass upon your
generosity to the extent of a match--or, say, a couple."

Mr. Selwyn remained staring down at me for a moment, and I saw the
points of his moustache positively curling with indignation. Then,
without deigning a reply, he turned on his heel and strode away. He had
not gone more than thirty or forty paces, however, when I heard him
stop and swear savagely--I did not need to look to learn the reason--I
admit I chuckled. But my merriment was short-lived, for a moment later
came the feeble squeak of a horn followed by a shout and the Imp's
voice upraised in dire distress.

"Little-John! Little-John! to the rescue!" it called.

I hesitated, for I will freely confess that when I had made that
promise to the Imp it was with small expectation that I shou