He was almost directly under a huge gnarled oak tree, and as he laid a hand on the trunk for a moment to steady himself he happened to glance up, and the hair bristled on his scalp to find a pair of luminous yellow eyes gazing down upon him.
Ere he could recover, a form seemed to detach itself from the shadows and a pair of great hands reached down and clutched at his throat, while a chuckling voice said:
“Aha! You would give me away, would you!”
IV.
IN HIS terror, Norton did what was possibly the best thing in the circumstances—fell to the ground. For this action seemed to upset the equilibrium of the figure in the tree (which seemed to be suspended by the lower limbs) and caused it to relax its hold and draw up its arms for an instant. And in that instant Norton had recovered and was off, running as he had never run before, slipping, dashing, plunging, colliding, but never stopping and never looking back.
How he ever found his way out to the street was always a mystery to him, but he became aware, presently, that he was on North Avenue once more, and in the light of the first arc lamp he slowed down and finally stopped to recover. There was no sign of Needham, although Norton had heard him crashing along in pursuit.
Everything was still, and not a soul was in sight. Fear overcoming him again, Norton hurried on and did not stop until he was safe in his room and had locked the door. But he enjoyed little sleep during the remainder of that night.
Next evening Norton hastened to Meldrum’s apartment and poured the whole story into his friend’s sympathetic ear.
“You see,” he said excitedly, “I was right about him, after all. He is a throw-back—he came at me from the trees. His instincts drove him there. Talking, too, about my giving him away! He knows I know what he is....”
“He possibly played a practical joke on you,” said Meldrum cheerily. “He tried to give you a fright and succeeded. You called him, and he came—although not quite in the manner you expected, eh?”