sity which was imposed upon me of
unharnessing a man."

"What!"

"Of unharnessing a man, please your Honor! A man coming north and
a horse going east endeavored to cross the street at a given point,
at one and the same moment. It proved an impossibility, and
they--er--intersected."

"Dreadful!" cried Miss Maddledock.

"It so impressed me, else I had not dared to risk your Honor's
displeasure by pausing to unharness the man."

Mrs. Throcton, merry soul that she usually was, had grown quite serious
when Torbert spoke of a collision and an accident. Her voice was
earnest as she said, "Now, Mr. Torbert, stop your jesting right away and
tell us what you mean."

"It was as I have said, and all done in a second," Torbert replied. "You
never can tell just how a thing like that is done, you know. The horse
was a runaway. It must have come some distance, for it had broken away
from the vehicle to which it had been attached, and its torn harness was
held upon it by only one or two feeble straps. The man was a tall,
queer-looking fellow, rather seedily dressed, and possibly not quite
sober. He had been walking just ahead of me for several blocks. I can't
say what it was about him that first attracted my attention. Possibly it
was a peculiarity in his walk."

Mr. Maddledock, who had not spoken a word since they sat down to dinner,
now glanced up, and said, in an inquiring tone, "A peculiarity in his
walk?"

"Yes," answered Torbert, dropping into his seat and picking up his
oyster fork, "and I am somewhat at a loss to describe it. I don't think
he was lame, or wooden-legged, or afflicted with any hip trouble. As I
recall the step now, it seems to me that it was merely a habit. I think
he took a long and then a short step, long and short, long and short."

[Illustration: "HE WAS AN ODD-LOOKING FELLOW," SAID TORBERT, "ODD AND
BAD."]

"Um," said Mr. Maddledock.

"Just as he approached the crossing where the accident occurred he
turned his head, and I don't think I ever saw a more Mephistophelean
countenance. The only thing that broke the dark-angel shape of his face
was his nose, and that, with slight alterations, would have made an
excellent shepherd's crook."

Mr. Maddledock took up his wine-glass and drained it at a single quaff.
"A shepherd's crook," he repeated; "an odd nose, truly."

"He was an odd-looking fellow all over," Torbert continued, "odd and
bad. I never was more disagreeably impressed with a human face