"He lies in a very natural attitude—eh?"
"You don't tell me he was stuffed!"
The old man's eyes beamed a contemptuous pity.
"You are indifferently sharp, my dear sir, for a housebreaker. Come in. Set down those convicting boots, and don't drip pools of water in the very doorway, of all places. If I must entertain a burglar, I prefer him tidy."
He walked to the fire, picked up a poker, and knocked the coals into a blaze. This done, he turned round on me with the poker still in his hand. The serenest gravity sat on his large, pale features.
"Why have I done this?" he asked.
"I suppose to get possession of the poker."
"Quite right. May I inquire your next move?"
"Why," said I, feeling in my tail pocket, "I carry a pistol."
"Which I suppose to be damp?"