e knows it, I think, and now you've
found me what the devil is it you want?"

"I--I think there's a mistake," stammered the cook.

"Oh," said the old man. "Ha! is there? Pretty detective you are. I'll
bring an action against you. I'll have you imprisoned and dismissed the
force."

"It's all a mistake," said the cook; "I'm not a detective."

"Come this way," said the old man, rising.

The cook followed him into a smaller room at the back.

"You're not a detective?" said the old man, as he motioned him to a
seat. "I suppose you know that impersonating a detective is a serious
offence? Just stay here while I fetch a policeman, will you?"

The cook said he wouldn't.

"Ah," said the old man with a savage grin, "I think you will." Then he
went to the door and called loudly for "Roger."

Before the dazed cook of the _Seamew_ could collect his scattered senses
a pattering sounded on the stairs, and a bulldog came unobtrusively into
the room. It was a perfectly bred animal, with at least a dozen points
about it calling for notice and admiration, but all that the cook
noticed was the excellent preservation of its teeth.

"Watch him, Roger," said the old man, taking a hat from a sideboard.
"Don't let him move."

The animal growled intelligently, and sitting down a yard or two in
front of the cook watched him with much interest.

"I'm sure I'm very sorry," muttered the cook. "Don't go away and leave
me with this dog, sir."

"He won't touch you unless you move," said the old man.

The cook's head swam; he felt vaguely round for a subtle compliment.
"I'd rather you stayed," he quavered, "I would indeed. I don't know any
man I've took a greater fancy to at first sight."

"I don't want any of your confounded insolence," said the other sternly.
"Watch him, Roger."

Roger growled with all the cheerfulness of a dog who had found a job
which suited him, and his owner, after again warning the cook of what
would happen if he moved out of the chair, left the room, shutting the
door as he went. The cook heard the front door close behind him, and
then all was silence, except for the strong breathing of Roger.

For some time the man and dog sat eyeing each other in silence, then
the former, moistening his dry lips with his tongue, gave a conciliatory
chirrup. Roger responded with a deep growl, and, rising to his feet,
yawned expressively.

"Poor Roger!" said the cook in trembling accents, "poor old Rogy-wogy!
Good old dog!