" protested Ukridge. "You have a
perfect mania for looking on the dark side. The dog won't guard the
kitchen door. We shall manage to shut him up somewhere."

"Oh," said Garnet.

"And now let's get in and have something to eat, for goodness' sake."

The kitchen window proved to be insecurely latched. Ukridge flung it
open and they climbed in.

The dog, hearing the sound of voices, raced back along the passage and
flung himself at the door. He then proceeded to scratch at the panels
in the persevering way of one who feels that he is engaged upon a
business at which he is a specialist.

Inside the kitchen, Ukridge took command.

"Never mind the dog," he said, "let it scratch."

"I thought," said Garnet, "we were going to shut it up somewhere?"

"Go out and shut it into the dining room, then. Personally, I mean to
have some tea. Millie, you know how to light a fire. Garnet and I will
be collecting cups and things. When that scoundrel Beale arrives, I
shall tear him limb from limb. Deserting us like this! The man must be
a thorough fraud. He told me he was an old soldier. If this was the
sort of discipline they used to keep in his regiment, I don't wonder
that the service is going to the dogs. There goes a plate! How is the
fire getting on, Millie? I'll chop Beale into little bits. What's that
you've got there, Garny, old horse? Tea? Good! Where's the bread?
There! Another plate. Look here, I'll give that dog three minutes, and
if it doesn't stop scratching that door by then, I'll take the bread
knife and go out and have a soul-to-soul talk with it. It's a little
hard. My own house, and the first thing I find in it when I arrive is
somebody else's beastly dog scratching holes in the doors. Stop it,
you beast!"

The dog's reply was to continue his operations _piu mosso_.

Ukridge's eyes gleamed behind their glasses.

"Give me a good large jug," he said with ominous calm.

He took the largest of the jugs from the dresser and strode with it
into the scullery, whence came the sound of running water. He returned
carrying the jug in both hands. His mien was that of a general who
sees his way to a master stroke of strategy.

"Garny, old horse," he said, "tack on to the handle, and when I give
the word fling wide the gates. Then watch that beast beyond the door
get the surprise of its lifetime."

Garnet attached himself to the handle as directed. Ukridge gave the
word. They had a momentary vision of an excited dog