ble, with a catch in my breath; "and a fine brown fur at the edges."
He helped himself to whisky and water with great deliberation. "I was under the impression… that his hair covered his ears."
"I saw them as he stooped by me to put that coffee you sent to me on the table. And his eyes shine in the dark."
By this time Montgomery had recovered from the surprise of my question. "I always thought," he said deliberately, with a certain accentuation of his flavouring of lisp; "that there was something the matter with his ears. From the way he covered them.… What were they like?"
I was persuaded from his manner that this ignorance was a pretence. Still I could hardly tell the man I thought him a liar. "Pointed," I said; "rather small and furry—distinctly furry. But the whole man is one of the strangest beings I ever set eyes on."
A sharp, hoarse cry of animal pain came from the enclosure behind us. Its depth and volume testified to the puma. I saw Montgomery wince.
"Yes!" he said.
"Where did you pick the creature up?"
"Er—San Francisco.… He's an ugly brute, I admit. Half-witted, you know. Can't remember where he came from. But I'm used to him, you know. We both are. How does he strike you?"
"He's unnatural," I said. "There's something about him.… Don't think me fanciful, but it gives me a nasty little sensation, a tightening of my
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