Hamar would on no account accept his friends'
invitation to breakfast on the sausages and ham they had run such
risks in procuring; he made hasty tracks for a snug restaurant in
Bolter's Street, where he had a sumptuous repast for a dollar; and
then slunk home.
Shortly before midnight all three met again, and at once commenced
preparations for the second test. The question arose as to who should
hold Satan. They all had vivid recollections of the cat's behaviour
the previous night; consequently no one was anxious to officiate.
Finally they drew lots, and fate settled on Curtis. An exciting chase
now began. Satan, demonstrating his resentment of their treatment of
him, at every turn, knocked over a water bottle, ripped the skin of
Kelson's knuckles, and made his teeth meet in the fleshy part of
Curtis's thumb.
"Hulloa! what are you up to?" Curtis savagely demanded, as Hamar
thrust a cup at him.
"Hold your hand over it!" Hamar said sharply. "Don't suck it! We want
blood for this test and for the next."
"I wish the brute had bitten you!" Curtis snarled; "then, perhaps, you
wouldn't be so precious keen on economics. You did right to name it
Satan! and if it doesn't attract devils nothing will. I'm not going to
touch it again. See if you can hold the beast by yourself, Matt! It
seems to be less afraid of you than of either of us."
Kelson called out: "Puss!", and the cat at once came to him.
As it was now striking twelve, Hamar carefully shook three drops of
Curtis's blood from the cup on to Satan's back, while he instructed
Kelson to rub the animal's coat with the palm of the hand.
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