neck--ugh--all thick with
woolly hair."

"Oh, it was, eh?" I said drily, thinking of the long red stripe that my
collar concealed. "I suppose you felt this, eh, when you jumped at his
throat?"

Jenkins rubbed his chin with a puzzled air.

"Why, that's uncommon queer, sir; but now that you remind me, I do
remember that his neck felt perfectly smooth--and it wasn't so big,
either. Why, I should say it felt just about like yours would, sir."

[Illustration]

I eyed him ruefully.

"By Jove, I don't doubt it a minute!" I commented with some disgust.
"See here, Jenkins, I suppose you've been to the Chinese theater down in
Doyers Street, eh?"

For I had been down there with slumming parties, and I remembered the
hideous sorcerers, fierce warriors and kings the Chinks represent in
their interminable plays. And the facial make-up described by Jenkins
tallied in a way with some I recalled from these ancient, semi-mythical
plays.

But at my question, Jenkins' lip curled a little; dash me, but he looked
almost insulted.

"I should say not, sir," he said with a sniff; "you don't catch me going
down in them parts!" He added quickly: "Meaning no offense, sir."

"Sure?" I questioned sharply.

"Never, sir!" Jenkins' earnestness was unmistakable. But of course I
knew the poor fellow had forgotten all about it.

"One of the jolly rum things that goes along with his affliction," I
reflected sadly. "A month from now the poor beggar will be swearing he
never saw me in his life." And how the devil was I going to break the
truth to him? I sighed perplexedly. "Well, go on with your yarn," I said
irresolutely. "You were telling, when I interrupted, about rushing into
my bedroom."

"Yes, sir," he resumed with animation. "And when I didn't find you, I
was just frantic, for I didn't know you had gone out, sir--never
thought of that; I went for the ugly monster with the big pistol there
in the cabinet--which, by the way, sir, the low down villain stole when
he locked me up and lit out."

I had an inspiration.

"I see," I broke in carelessly; "and then you demanded to know where I
was--that it? Then you backed him to that window, and he told you he had
chucked me into the street--whereupon you tried to blow off his head and
knocked the jolly daylights out of the lady with the fencing foil."

Jenkins, his mouth agape, viewed me with distended eyes.

"I didn't tell you that, sir," he faltered. "How--"

"And when you dropped th