Mr. Tebbutts here passed out of the incident into the night, and the Aussolas Martin Cat was swallowed up by a large hole in the surbase in the corner of the first landing.
"He'll come out in the wine-cellar," said Flurry, with the calm that was his in moments of crisis, "the way the cat did."
I pulled myself together.
"What's happened to the other Fanaghy cub?" I enquired with, I hope, equal calmness.
"He's gone to blazes," replied Flurry; "there isn't a wall in this house that hasn't a way in it. I knew I'd never have luck with them after you asking the way from Kitty the Shakes."
As is usual in my dealings with Flurry, the fault was mine.
While I reflected on this, the stillness of the night was studded in a long and diminishing line by the running pant of the motor-bicycle.
II
THE FINGER OF MRS. KNOX