,
Lad could not, for the life of him, tell. The room gave him no clew.
And, after a few minutes of futile investigation, he turned to depart.

At the stairhead, he came upon the same servant he had seen sweeping
the veranda. She cried: "Shoo!" at him and brandished her broom. Lad,
in offended dignity, stalked past her and out of the house.

His quest having proven vain, he betook himself to the Harmons',
arriving there as the Mistress and the Master emerged upon the veranda
in company with their hosts. In wild delight, Lad scampered up to the
Mistress; his whole stately body wriggling in eager welcome, his tiny
white forepaws patting at her feet, his muzzle thrusting itself into
her cupped hand.

"Why, Lad!" she cried. "Laddie! We were so worried about you. They just
phoned from the kennels that you had gotten away. I might have known
you'd find your way to us. We--"

She got no further. Up the walk, from the road, came running an
apoplectically red and puffing man of late middle age;--a man whose
face bore traces of lather; and who was swathed in a purple bathrobe.
Flapping slippers ill-covered his sockless feet.

The Master recognized the fast-advancing newcomer. He recognized him
from many pictures in newspapers and magazines.

This was Rutherford Garretse, world-famed author and collector; the
literary lion and chief celebrity of the summer colony at Daylight
Park. But what eccentricity of genius could account for his costume and
for this bellicose method of bearing down upon a neighbor's home, was
more than the Master could guess.

Nor did the visitor's first words clear up the mystery. Halting at the
foot of the steps, Rutherford Garretse gesticulated in dumb anguish,
while he fought for breath and for coherent speech. Then, disregarding
Harmon's wondering greeting, the celebrity burst into choking staccato
speech.

"That dog!" he croaked. "That--that--DOG! The maid saw him go into the
house. Saw him go up to my study. She was afraid to follow, at first.
But in a few minutes she did. She saw him coming out of my study!
COME!!! I demand it. All of you. COME!"

Without another word, he wheeled and made off down the road, pausing
only to beckon imperiously. Marveling, the group on the veranda
followed. Deaf to their questions, he led the way. Lad fell into line
behind the perplexed Mistress.

Down the road to the next house, stalked Rutherford Garretse. At the
doorway, he repeated his dramatic gesture an