"But what shall I say?" I asked helplessly. "You said he was interested in chemistry?" asked the strange little fellow. "I believe he cares for nothing else," I replied. "Very well. Now write this: 'I have made a discovery to-night such as you never dreamed of. Come at once!' That will bring him," said my guest. Why I was so easily bullied by the manikin I can not tell; but I wrote the note and sent it at once. "Now," resumed my little guest, "what else can I do for you?" "Nothing," I replied, laughing; "unless you will pay my bills for me!" "With pleasure," he answered gravely; "let me see them." I brought the bills, and he went over them very carefully. "Hm--hm--very good!" he said, when he had finished his examination. "You have not been very extravagant. I'll reduce them for you!" He began beckoning, as he had beckoned to the chair and the tea-tray, and I smiled, expecting to see the papers grow smaller and smaller. But when he stopped I could see no change, although he seated himself as though well satisfied. As he said nothing, I finally ventured to say: "Well!" "Well," he replied; "look at your bills!" I picked them up and was astonished to see that the amounts had dwindled from dollars to cents, until each bill was for only a hundredth part of what it had been. "But that is nonsense!" I said, looking up angrily. "I'm not a baby! What good will that do?" "You're only twenty-three," he said, doubtfully; and smiling as a knock was heard at the door, he made me a sign to open it. I did so, and there stood my tailor, Mr. Mewlett. I frowned, for I owed him more than a hundred dollars. But he smiled politely, saying, "Could you oblige me with that dollar or two you owe me? I need a little change to-night." I stared at him in wonder; but, thinking it wise to ask no questions, I took his bill from the pile on the table and handed it to him. He read it aloud: "One dollar and fourteen cents." I counted out the money. He receipted the bill and left me, seeming perfectly contented. I dropped into a chair, too much puzzled to say a word. Just then the door banged open wide, and in came my uncle, puffing and blowing with the exertion of climbing the stairs. "Well, on what fool's errand have you brought me here----" he began; but suddenly I heard a shriek from the pigmy on the table. As I turned, he began beckoning--beckoning--beckoning, as if he were frantic. I turned to look at my uncle. He was gone. Then I turned again to the little man on the table--What a sight met my eyes! There stood upon the table the miniature image of my uncle, staring with wide-open eyes at the little figure of my guest. For a moment they glared at each other--and then, before I could interfere, they were fighting for their lives. It was over in a second. My uncle was too old and feeble to be a match for the wiry little warrior in leather.