It was past midnight. The avenue was deserted. Large chestnuts clothed the side street, down which the person designated walked, in darkness.
Evan fairly panted as he trailed his quarry. Within a few rods of It he began to run noiselessly upon the grass. Then he pounced upon it, like a jaguar upon a fawn. Sam was a short distance behind.
Down in the mud went the blue coat and flannel pants, and there echoed a cry much like that of a frightened girl. Smothering that cry with a handful of mud, Evan proceeded to plaster every part of his victim, except the ears, into one of which he facetiously whispered:
"Alfy dear, this is Evan."
All but howling, Castle scrambled out of the gutter and ran for his life.
Sam tried several times to speak, as they walked up to his home, but his eye fell on Evan's muddy raincoat and he failed. Through the night Mrs. Robb was startled by certain silent convulsions.
"Sammy," she whispered, "are you ill?"
"Yes, Ede," he said jerkily, "a pain in the side."