the
curious instinct with which his former master had credited him.

Staines liked him, principally because he so obviously liked Staines.
Staines thought him a faithful and affectionate beast, with nothing to
distinguish him from the normal. When he recalled Smith's story of the
snatched railway ticket, he explained it all as a chance. These flukes
did happen sometimes.

And then one afternoon he went to call upon the Murrays--a practice that
was becoming rather common with him--and as Jane was particularly fond
of Zero, Zero accompanied him. When they reached the square, Zero sat
down on the pavement. Staines called him, and the dog wagged his tail,
but did not move. Staines went on without him, but presently had to
stop, for Zero had now changed his tactics, and was running round and
round Staines' legs. The incident of the railway ticket flashed across
his mind. He was a business man, and not superstitious; however, it did
not matter to him in the least which two sides of the square he took,
and he determined to turn back and take the other two sides, and see
what would happen. As soon as he turned back, Zero followed at heel in
his usual quiet and unobtrusive manner.

A loud crash caused him to look round. A heavy stone coping had fallen
from a roof, and if the dog had not brought him back it would have
fallen upon him. Here was a nice little story with a mildly sensational
interest for Staines to tell over the teacups.

Mr Murray was matter-of-fact.

"Your story is true, of course," he said. "Your dog did make you take
the other two sides of the square, and the fact that you turned back
probably saved your life. But, all the same, the dog didn't know. By
what means could the brain of a dog recognise the imminent dissolution
of part of the roof of a house?"

"Zero did know," said Jane. She was Mr Murray's only daughter, and
without being wildly beautiful, was an extremely pleasing and friendly
young woman to look at. At present she was feeding Zero with thin
bread-and-butter. Zero had been told, even by Jane herself, that this
form of diet was bad for his figure, but he accepted it with
resignation--rather an enthusiastic kind of resignation.

"What makes you say that Zero knew?" her father asked, with indulgent
superiority.

"Because I know he knew," said Jane firmly and finally.

"And then," said Mr Murray, "women tell us they ought to have the vote."

"Miss Murray," said Richard firmly, "that dog is