"Is it necessary to light that?" he asked. "Why not? There's a bad bit of road at the bottom there." "I find the glare of a lamp like that always makes it worse. What is it, acetylene?" He bent over the lantern to examine it, and in the pause the match burned down and went out. I felt for the box again in my pocket, and as I did so Lessing let go his hold on the bicycle. The machine slipped by its weight, and reaching quickly to catch it I heard the unmistakable sound of escaping air. "Now you've done it!" cried Lessing boyishly. "Damn!" I groped for the rear tire. It was flat. "Here's a cheerful business. How the dickens----" Lessing laughed. "We'll have to walk it now! Never mind. I know the road." "I'm not going to bring you all that way," I said. "I shall be all right." "Nonsense! I like a walk before I turn in." He took hold of the bicycle on one side, I on the other, and together we set off to walk down the hill. There is an exhilaration in walking through woods at night, even tempered by the necessity of pushing a heavy motor-cycle before you, and my brief annoyance at the accident rapidly vanished. Lessing was boyishly high-spirited; between us we made a fairly rowdy trip of it. We had just finished the ascent of the other side of the hollow when he laid a sudden hand on my arm. "Did you hear anything?" "No. Why?" I thought he was still joking, but his cloak of nonsense had dropped from him abruptly. He pulled me to the side of the road. "Listen!" There seemed nothing to listen for. I waited, rather impatiently. Lessing threw back his head, scanning the line of the trees that shut us in. "There!" It was still in my mind that he was trying to play some game on me. "It's nothing but a bird," I said. "Bird? You heard nothing else?" "No." "Come on," Lessing said. He seemed abruptly sobered, and I fancied he was at pains to quicken our pace over the remaining stretch of road. When we sighted the glimmer of the orchard palings I pulled up. "Come on into the house and have a drink," I said. "No, thanks. I must get back. By the way, do you carry a revolver?" "What on earth for?" "I only wondered. I should advise you to, around here." His hand slipped down to his pocket, and I heard a soft click. "What are you going to do?" "Have a pot at the birds, going back." He smiled. "Good night. Look in sometime during the week." And he went off without further delay, whistling softly. VII WHAT HAPPENED IN THE LABORATORY Instead, it was Lessing who came a day or two later to see me. He lounged in one evening when I was sitting smoking on the porch, after supper, and my first advice of his presence was the clatter of a zinc pail which Pete let fall promptly in the side yard. When Lessing rounded the corner of the porch he was grinning. "Your nigger must have a bad conscience," he said. "I never saw anyone so afraid of the devil in all my life!"