find her feeding on somebody's flesh and blood. And we'd all prefer that she wandered about in some other part of the world."
"Panthers aren't so easily rounded up," reiterated the mild-eyed Wilsnach.
Kestner sat for several minutes in studious silence. Then he smiled as he glanced up at his younger companion. "The approved method of rounding them up, I believe, is to locate their runaway, and then stake an innocent young lamb down in the jungle."
"And you're to be the lamb?" was the quick inquiry.
"On the contrary, I'm too lamentably old for such uses. And the wool would never cover me, for there's a limit to all disguises, once you've been known. Besides, your bleat can always give you away. You agree with me there, don't you, Wilsnach, that a man can never really disguise his voice?"
"I've never seen it done, off the stage."
"Precisely. So that counts me out with the lady, with whom I once had the pleasure of conversing."
"Then who in thunder is going to be the lamb?" was Wilsnach's perturbed demand.
"How would you like to be?"
