Clutching Hand kicked at him vigorously, if
surreptitiously. Rusty barked.
"Lady," he disguised his voice, "will yer please ter call off the
dog? Me and him don't seem to cotton to each other."
"Here, Rusty," she commanded, "down!"
Together Aunt Josephine and Michael removed the still protesting
Rusty.
No sooner was the door shut than the Clutching Hand moved over
swiftly to it. For a few seconds, he stood gazing at them as they
disappeared down-stairs. Then he came back into the center of the
room.
Hastily he opened his bag and from it drew a small powder-spraying
outfit such as I have seen used for spraying bug-powder. He then
took out a sort of muzzle with an elastic band on it and slipped
it over his head so that the muzzle protected his nose and mouth.
He seemed to work a sort of pumping attachment and from the nozzle
of the spraying instrument blew out a cloud of powder which he
directed at the wall.
The wall paper was one of those rich, fuzzy varieties and it
seemed to catch the powder. Clutching Hand appeared to be more
than satisfied with the effect.
Meanwhile, Michael, in the hallway, on guard to see that no one
bothered the Clutching Hand at his work, was overcome by curiosity
to see what his master was doing. He opened the door a little bit
and gazed stealthily through the crack into the room.
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