," I said, "Miss Chester arrives by the next steamer. In the
meanwhile something has got to be done."

"What?" said he hopelessly.

"I don't know," I said. "Let me think."

The dog Don laid his head heavily on my knee, as if he wished to offer a
solution of the difficulty.

A week before Miss Chester's steamer was due the situation had not
changed. Graves's pet was as much a fixture of Graves's house as the
front door. And a man was never confronted with a more serious problem.
Twice he carried her back into the grass and deserted her, and each time
she returned and was found sobbing--horrible, dry sobs--on the porch.
And a number of times we took her, or Graves did, in the pocket of his
jacket, upon systematic searches for her people. Doubtless she could
have helped us to find them, but she wouldn't. She was very sullen on
these expeditions and frightened. When Graves tried to put her down she
would cling to him, and it took real force to pry her loose.

In the open she could run like a rat; and in open country it would have
been impossible to desert her; she would have followed at Graves's heels
as fast as he could move them. But forcing through the thick grass
tired her after a few hundred yards, and she would gradually drop
farther and farther behind--sobbing. There was a pathetic side to it.

She hated me; and made no bones about it; but there was an armed truce
between us. She feared my influence over Graves, and I feared her--well,
just as some people fear rats or snakes. Things utterly out of the
normal always do worry me, and Bo, which was the name Graves had learned
for her, was, so far as I know, unique in human experience. In
appearance she was like an unusually good-looking island girl observed
through the wrong end of an opera-glass, but in habit and action she was
different. She would catch flies and little grasshoppers and eat them
all alive and kicking, and if you teased her more than she liked her
ears would flatten the way a cat's do, and she would hiss like a
snapping-turtle, and show her teeth.

But one got accustomed to her. Even poor Don learned that it was not his
duty to punish her with one bound and a snap. But he would never let her
touch him, believing that in her case discretion was the better part of
valor. If she approached him he withdrew, always with dignity, but
equally with determination. He knew in his heart that something about
her was horribly wrong and against nature. I knew