yet obtruded itself upon one in a vaguely unpleasant way. Noticing
all this, I thought I might make a very good guess as to his
identity if need were.

All at once, as I watched him - like a bird rising from her nest
- the devoted Panama rose in the air, turned over once or twice
and fluttered (I use the word figuratively) into a bramble bush.
Bad language was writ large in every line of his body as he stood
looking about him, the hunting-crop quivering in his grasp.

It was at this precise juncture that his eye encountered me, and
pausing only to recover his unfortunate headgear, he strode toward
where I sat, "Do you know anything about this?" he inquired in a
somewhat aggressive manner, holding up a length of black thread.

"A piece of ordinary pack-thread," I answered, affecting to examine
it with a critical eye.

"Do you know anything about it?" he said again, evidently in a very
bad temper.

"Sir," I answered, "I do not."

"Because if I thought you did - "

"Sir." I broke in, "you'll excuse me, but that seems a very
remarkable hat of yours.

"I repeat if I thought you did - "