of,
and evinced no surprise at it at all. "Yes," he said, "that dog always
knew. Did I tell you about the milk?"

"No. What was that?"

"Me and Cowbit next door got our milk from the same man. I went out one
morning to take the can in, when Zero came bullocking past me and
knocked the can over. He never tried to drink the milk that was spilled,
but just stood there, wagging his old tail. Mind you, sir, that was
after he had saved me from the train smash. 'Well,' I said to him, 'I
suppose you know'; and I went in to Cowbits' to tell them not to touch
that milk. Cowbit laughed at the story, and took milk in his tea. But
his missus wouldn't have any, and wouldn't let the baby have none
either. Cowbit was ill for days and pretty near died. Mineral poison it
was, from one of the milk-pans going wrong."

"How do you suppose the dog knew?"

"Me suppose? Why, I never asked myself the question. He did know--that
was all about it. Still, if I had to explain it, I should say it was
some kind of an instinct."

And Richard mercifully forebore to ask Mr Smith how he would explain
that particular kind of instinct.

CHAPTER III

Richard was best-man at his partner's wedding. He afterwards attended a
crowded reception. It was too crowded; and there were far too many
people there who wanted to talk to Jane Murray. She was popular, and
there was a group round her all the time. Not for five minutes could
Richard get her to himself. It was this selfishness on the part of
others which depressed him, not the reception champagne, which was no
worse than is usual on such occasions.

The crowds bored him and when he got back to his flat the solitude bored
him. Not even Zero was there. Richard's valet had taken the dog out for
exercise; this had been done in obedience to Richard's own orders, but
it now seemed to him in the light of a grievance. The grievance became
more acute when his servant returned without the dog.

"Very sorry, sir; I wouldn't have had it happen for anything. I was
walking in Regent's Park, with the dog at my heels, and all of a sudden
he made a bolt for it. I whistled and called, but he went straight on.
And when I started running after him, he made a dash into a big
shrubbery. That was how he foxed me, sir. While I was hunting him on one
side, he must have bolted out on the other. Never known the dog act like
that before. It was just as if something had come over him. Speaking in
a general way--"

"We