In the Coach and Horses
"I won't argue again," said Cuss. "We 've thrashed that out, Bunting. And just now there's these books— Ah! here's some of what I take to be Greek! Greek letters certainly."
He pointed to the middle of the page. Mr. Bunting flushed slightly and brought his face nearer, apparently finding some difficulty with his glasses. Suddenly he became aware of a strange feeling at the nape of his neck. He tried to raise his head, and encountered an immovable resistance. The feeling was a curious pressure, the grip of a heavy, firm hand, and it bore his chin irresistibly to the table. "Don't move, little men," whispered a voice, "or I 'll brain you both!" He looked into the face of Cuss, close to his own, and each saw a horrified reflection of his own sickly astonishment.
"I'm sorry to handle you roughly," said the Voice, "but it's unavoidable.
"Since when did you learn to pry into an investigator's private memoranda," said the Voice; and two chins struck the table simultaneously, and two sets of teeth rattled.
"Since when did you learn to invade the pri-
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