“Well,” said the Industrialist, “there’s no harm in that. What kind of an animal, lad?”

“A small one, sir.”

“Then try grass or leaves, and if they don’t want that, nuts or berries would probably do the trick.”

“Thank you, sir.” Slim ran out again, closing the door gently behind him.

The Astronomer said, “Do you suppose they’ve trapped an animal alive?” He was obviously perturbed.

“That’s common enough. There’s no shooting on my estate and it’s tame country, full of rodents and small creatures. Red is always coming home with pets of one sort or another. They rarely maintain his interest for long.”

He looked at the wall clock. “Your friends should have been here by now, shouldn’t they?”