Immediately the Pilot burst in, calling out eagerly: "Did you get him ?" "No!" said Bruce, disappointedly, "he dodged like the devil, as of course he ought, you know." "I'll get him," said Moore.

"Smoke him out," proceeding to open the stove door.
"Stop!" screamed Bruce, "don't open that door! It's full, I tell you." Moore paused.

"Besides," went on Bruce, "smoke won't touch 'em." "Oh, that's all right," said Moore, coolly and with admirable quickness, "wood smoke, you know--they can't stand that." This was apparently a new idea in demonology for Bruce, for he sank back, while Moore lighted the fire and put on the tea-kettle.

He looked round for the tea-caddy.
"Up there," said Bruce, forgetting for the moment his devils, and pointing to a quaint, old-fashioned tea-caddy upon the shelf.
Moore took it down, turned it in his hands and looked at Bruce.
"Old country, eh ?" "My mother's," said Bruce, soberly.
"I could have sworn it was my aunt's in Balleymena," said Moore.

"My aunt lived in a little stone cottage with roses all over the front of it." And on he went into an enthusiastic description of his early home.
His voice was full of music, soft and soothing, and poor Bruce sank back and listened, the glitter fading from his eyes.
The Duke and I looked at each other.
"Not too bad, eh ?" said The Duke, after a few moments' silence.
"Let's put up the horses," I suggested.