Again Mr. Cone's tongue against his teeth clicked his astonishment at this extraordinary experience, and while he congratulated Mr. Appel upon his miraculous escape he noted that he was wearing souvenirs of his trip in the way of an elk-tooth scarf-pin and a hat-band of braided horse hair. The same train had brought Mrs. J. Harry Stott apparently, for the elevator was barely closed upon the victim of the picturesque accident to which Mr. Cone had just listened, when the office was illumined by her gracious presence. The last time that lady had extended a supine hand it had been to offer him one of the most serious affronts that can befall a self-respecting landlord; now the hand contained only cordiality, and in that spirit Mr. Cone took it. "You enjoyed your summer?" As Mr. Cone passed the pen for her to register. "Delightful! Altogether unique! Do you know, Mr. Cone, I never before have fully appreciated my husband--his splendid courage?" "Is that so?" Mr. Cone replied with polite interest. "Yes, when put to the test he was magnificent. You see, we had a cook, oh, a most offensive--a rully violent and dangerous person. In fact, it was because of him that I left the party prematurely. "It was plain that both Wallie and Pinkey were afraid of him, and dared not discharge him, so, one day when he had been more objectionable than usual, my husband took things into his own hands--he simply _had_ to! "Hicks--his name was Hicks--was disrespectful when Mr. Stott reprimanded him for something, and then he attempted to strike my husband with a pair of brass knuckles. Brass knuckles, it seems, are not a gentleman's weapon, and the cowardly attack so infuriated Mr. Stott that he knocked the bully down and took them away from him. He still has them. Before he let him up he pummelled him well, I assure you. Mr. Stott doesn't know how strong he is when angry. Such muscles! "He punished the cook until he begged for mercy and promised to do better. But as soon as he was on his feet he tried to _stab_ my husband with a bread-knife. Fancy! Mr. Stott took this away from him, also, and ran him down the road with it. He ran him for seven miles--_seven miles_, mind you! The cook was nearly dead when Mr. Stott let up on him. I had to _drag_ this story from my husband, little by little. But wasn't it exciting?" Mr. Cone, who never had thought of Mr. Stott as such a warrior, tried to visualize the episode, and though he failed to do so he was greatly impressed by it.