pack-thread," I answered, affecting to examine it with a critical eye. 

 "Do you know anything about it?" he said again, evidently in a very bad temper. 

 "Sir," I answered, "I do not." 

 "Because if I thought you did—" 

 "Sir." I broke in, "you'll excuse me, but that seems a very remarkable hat of yours. 

 "I repeat if I thought you did—" 

 "Of course," I went on, "each to his taste, but personally I prefer one with less 'gymnastic' and more 'stay-at-home, qualities." 

 The hunting-crop was raised threateningly. 

 "Mr. Selwyn?"  I inquired in a conversational tone. 

 The hunting-crop hesitated and was lowered. 

 "Well, sir?" 

 "Ah, I thought so," I said, bowing; "permit me to trespass upon your generosity to the extent of a match—or, say, a couple." 

 Mr. Selwyn remained staring down at me for a moment, and I saw the points of his moustache positively curling with indignation. Then, without deigning a reply, he turned on his heel and strode away. He had not gone more than thirty or forty paces, however, when I heard him stop and swear savagely—I did not need to look to learn the reason—I admit I chuckled. But my merriment was short-lived, for a moment later came the feeble squeak of a horn followed by a shout and the Imp's voice upraised in dire distress. 

 "Little-John! Little-John! to the rescue!" it called. 

 I hesitated, for I will freely confess that when I had made that promise to the Imp it was with small expectation that I should be called upon to fulfil it. Still, a promise is a promise: so I sighed, and picking up the joint of my fishing rod, clambered up the bank. Glancing in the direction of the cries, I beheld Robin Hood struggling in the foe's indignant grasp. 

 Now, there were but two methods of procedure open to me as I could 

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