WHAT THE POLICE KNEW
As I pushed my way through the tangle of weeds and undergrowth, Jack followed closely at my heels.
The dark figure leapt away in an instant, and dashed round the corner by the ruined conservatory, but I was too quick for him. I caught him up when he gained the front of the house, and there, in the light of the street-lamp, my eyes fell upon a strange-looking object.
He proved to be a ragged, hunchbacked youth, so deformed as to be extremely ugly, both in face and figure. His hair, long and lank, hung about his shoulders, while his dark eyes stood out in terror when I ordered him to halt, and covered him with my shining weapon.
His was the most weird figure that I had seen for many a day. I judged him to be about eighteen or nineteen, though he looked older. His legs were short, his head seemed far too big for his crooked body, while his arms were long and ape-like, and his fingers thin, like talons.
“Now then, what are you doing here?” I demanded in a firm, commanding voice.
But he only quivered, and crouched against the wall like a whipped dog.
“Speak!” I said. “Who are you?”
He gave vent to a loud, harsh laugh, almost a screech, and then grinned horribly in my face.