"I shall produce," he said quietly, but firmly, "the evidence of one who enjoyed the confidence of dear old Professor What's-his-name, the eminent thigumy-ologist. Oh, Ali!" Ali Abid, a solemn figure, salaamed in the doorway. Not for nothing had he been factotum to a great bacteriologist before the demise of his master had driven him to service with a lieutenant of Houssas. His vocabulary smelt of the laboratory, his English was pure, undefiled, and unusual. "Ali, you remember my leopard?" "Sir," said Ali, shaking his head, "who can forget?" "Did I kill him, Ali?" asked Bones. "Tell the lady everything." Ali bowed to the girl. "Miss or madame," he said, "the leopard (_Felis pardus_), a wild beast of the Felidae family, is indigenous to forest territory. The subject in question--to wit, the skin thereof exhibited by Sir Bones--was particularly ferocious, and departed this life as a result of hunting conducted by aforesaid. Examination of subject after demise under most scientific scrutiny revealed that said leopard (_Felis pardus_) suffered from weak heart, and primary cause of death was diagnosed as shock occasioned by large 'bang' from Sir Bones's rifle." "What did I say?" asked Bones complacently. "Do you mean to tell me," gasped the girl, "that you _frightened_ the leopard to death?" Bones spread out his hands disparagingly. "You have heard the evidence, dear old sister," he said; "there is nothing to add." She threw back her head and laughed until her grey eyes were swimming in tears. "Oh, Bones, you humbug!" she laughed. Bones drew himself up more stiffly than ever, stuck his monocle in his eye, and turned to his chief. "Do I understand, sir," he said, "that my leave is granted?" "Seven days," said Hamilton, and Bones swung round on his heel, knocked over Hamilton's stationery rack, stumbled over a chair, and strode gloomily from the hut. When Patricia Hamilton woke the next morning, she found a note pinned to her pillow. We may gloss over the impropriety of the proceedings which led to this phenomenon. Bones was an artist, and so small a matter as the proprieties did not come into his calculations. Patricia sat up in bed and read the letter. "DEAR OLD FRIEND AND DOUTTING THOS." (Bones's spelling was always perfectly disgraceful),-- "When this reaches you, when this reaches you, I shall be far, far away on my long and dangerus journey. I may not come back, I may not come back, for I and a faithful servant are about to penetrate to the lares of the wild beasts of the forest, of the forest. I am determined to wipe out the reproach which you have made. I will bring back, not a dead leppard, not a dead leppard, but a live one, which I shall seeze with my own hands. I may lose my life in this rash and hazardus enterprise, but at least I shall vindycate my honour.--Farewell, dear old Patrisia. "Your friend,