"
"Not a bit of it! Depend upon it, the beast is bewitched. Even to my eye
it looks as though it were, and to a trained eye like yours, Pugh! You've
been looking for the devil a long time, and you've got him at last."
"I--I wish you wouldn't make those remarks, Tress. They jar on me."
"I confess," interpolated Brasher--I noticed that he had put the pipe down
on the table as though he were tired of holding it--"that, to _my_
thinking, such remarks are not appropriate. At the same time what you have
told us is, I am bound to allow, a little curious. But of course what I
require is ocular demonstration. I haven't seen the movement myself."
"No, but you very soon will do if you care to have a pull at the pipe on
your own account. Do, Brasher, to oblige me! There's a dear!"
"It appears, then, that the movement is only observable when the pipe is
smoked. We have at least arrived at step No. 1."
"Here's a match, Brasher! Light up, and we shall have arrived at step No.
2."
Tress lit a match and held it out to Brasher. Brasher retreated from its
neighborhood.
"Thank you, Mr. Tress, I am no smoker, as you are aware. And I have no
desire to acquire the art of smoking by means of a poisoned pipe."
Tress laughed. He blew out the match and threw it into the grate.
"Then I tell you what I'll do--I'll have up Bob.
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