“Why ... why, what the devil!” he gasped, staring about the orderly tap-room in round-eyed amazement, while his breathless subordinates peered over his shoulders; and, finding no better expression to fit the occasion, he repeated it, louder than before, “What the devil!” “Extraordinary!” exclaimed Sir John, viewing the breathless gentleman in mild wonder. “Mr. Bunkle, you may bring us some o’ your famous gumboo.” “Well ... damme!” panted the officer. “Aye, but why, sir?” inquired Sir John, whereat the officer grew a trifle redder in the face and, scowling upon Sir John, fell back upon his original remark: “What the devil!” “My dear sir,” quoth Sir John, “not being an army man myself, I am consequently a little at a loss, and should be glad to know precisely what evolution, manœuvre or exercise you and your comrades are engaged upon?” The officer blinked, stared about him dazedly, and scowled upon Sir John blacker than ever. “Sir,” said he, having somewhat recovered his breath, “I am Panter o’ the Third! Captain Panter, sir, and am here in pursuit o’ the notorious smuggler, George Potter, who entered this doorway not two minutes ago.” “Amazing!” murmured Sir John, shaking his head. “Hector, you hear what Captain Panter says?” “Aye, I hear,” answered Sir Hector, staring at the Captain and shaking his head also. “’Tis fair astonishin’, John!” “Why, what d’ye mean, sir?” demanded the Captain angrily. “What the devil d’ye mean? I’ve got eyes, and I saw our man run through this doorway, damme!” “Mebbe ’tis the sun, Johnnie?” Sir Hector suggested. “An’ sunstroke’s an awfu’ thing, y’ ken, ’tis bad as strong drink tae mak’ a man see visions——” “Visions, sir!” cried Captain Panter, “to the devil with your visions, sir! You, Ensign Page, did we see our man run in here or no?” “Most certainly we did, sir!” “And you, Sergeant, did we or did we not?” “Why, sir,” answered the Sergeant, saluting, “we did; leastways you did, but I didn’t—that is, not pre-zackly as I could swear to ... me not being capable o’ seein’ nothin’ but the stock o’ Private Adamses musket as, owin’ to Private Adamses windictiveness, ’ad caught me in the ab-domen, sir, doublin’ of me up like a jack-knife and renderin’ me——” “Damme!” roared the Captain, stamping with fury, “will ye hold your infernal tongue! Page, take ten men and search this cursed inn all over again ... the fireplace yonder first!” The embers were scattered immediately and two zealous soldiers, ducking under the arch of the mantel, stood in the wide chimney to peer, to prod with bayonets, to pound with musket-butts until they sneezed, choked and reappeared coughing and black with fallen soot, to the suppressed delight of their comrades and the furious chagrin of their Captain, who promptly cursed them forth to their instant ablutions. “Sergeant,” he cried, “surround this damned tavern and let nobody out or in, d’ye hear?”