"No, it don't come a third time. When I was a little boy my mother took me to the Polytechnic to see 'Pepper's Ghost.' You saw it, and it wasn't there. You run a sword through it, and it grinned in your face. I was that scared I couldn't sleep for a week afterwards. It's my belief, if I'd got close enough to run a knife into the shadder, it'd have served me just the same. Step up, we're in the gutter."
"It's singular, that's what it is. It's singular. Shall you report it?"
"I'm doubtful of it. They might think I was off my head. Let it be between us, Pond."
"It don't pass my lips, Applebee."
They entered a hooded court, and halted there.
"Where are we?" asked Constable Pond.
"In Deadman's Court." Constable Pond shivered. "Leading to Catchpole Square, and leading nowhere else. You wouldn't catch me living in a cooldersack."
"What may be the meaning of that, Applebee?" asked Constable Pond.
"You couldn't have been much of a dab at school to ask that question. Now, me!--but I won't boast. Cooldersack is French for blind thoroughfare. A man that sleeps as sound as I do 'd find himself in a trap, with a entrance like this. Suppose you live in the end house where Mr. Samuel Boyd lives, and there's a fire in the middle of the night. How's the fire engines to get to you? You wouldn't have half a chance. A man might as well be shut up in a bottle. Do you know the Square at all, Pond?"
"No. Never been in it to my knowledge."