fine millimeter-gauge to measure the difference
between them.

Mrs. Severance went back to her chair and Oliver sank into the chair
that had been previously occupied by Mr. Piper. As he stretched back
luxuriously something small and hard and bulging made him aware of
itself in his pocket. "Oh Lord, I forgot I still had that gun of Mr.
Piper's!" said Oliver inconsequentially.

"Have you?" said Mrs. Severance. The fact did not seem to strike her as
being of any particular importance. They both drank long and frankly and
thirstily, as if they were drinking well-water after having just come
in from a hot mountain trail. And again, and for a considerable time,
neither spoke.

"I suppose," said Mrs. Severance finally, with a blur of delicate scorn,
"I suppose our friend Mr. Billett--got away safely?"

Her words brought up a picture of Ted to Oliver,--Ted netted like a fish
out there on the fire-escape, swaddled up like a great papoose in all
the towels and dish-cloths Oliver had been able to find. The release
was too sudden, too great--the laughter came--the extreme laughter--the
laughter like a giant. He swayed in his chair, choking and beating his
knees and making strange lion-like sounds.

"Ted," he gasped. "Ted! Oh, no, Mrs. Severance, Ted didn't get away!
He didn't get away at all--Ted didn't! He didn't because you see he
_couldn't_. He's out on the fire-escape now--oh, wait till you see him,
oh Ted, oh Glory, oh what a night, what a night, what a night!"

XLII

It took a good deal of explaining, however, to make Ted understand. He
was still tightly bound, though very angrily conscious when they found
him and his language when Oliver removed the improvised gag was at first
of such an army variety that Oliver wondered doubtfully if he hadn't
better replace it until he got Ted alone. Also Oliver was forced to
curse himself rather admiringly for the large number of unnecessary
knots he had used, when he started to unravel his captive.

When they finally got him completely untangled Ted's first remarks were
hardly those of gratitude. He declared sulkily that his head felt as if
it were going to split open, that he must have a bump on the back of it
as big as a squash and that it wasn't Oliver's fault if he hadn't caught
pneumonia out on that fire-escape--the air, believe him, was _cold_!

Mrs. Severance, however, and as usual, rose to the occasion and produced
a bottle of witch-hazel from the bathroom with w