the most part were of a
miscellaneous variety. Exactly in front of them, the space behind a
large plate-glass window had been transformed into a sort of show-place
for dogs. There were twenty or thirty of them there, of all breeds and
varieties.

"What the mischief is this?" Francis demanded.

"Come in and make enquiries," Shopland replied. "I can promise that you
will find it interesting. It's a sort of dog's home."

Francis followed his companion into the place. A pleasant-looking,
middle-aged woman came forward and greeted the latter.

"Do you mind telling my friend what you told me the other day?" he
asked.

"Certainly, sir," she replied. "We collect stray animals here, sir,"
she continued, turning to Francis. "Every one who has a dog or a cat he
can't afford to keep, or which he wants to get rid of, may bring it to
us. We have agents all the time in the streets, and if any official of
the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals brings us news of
a dog or a cat being ill-treated, we either purchase it or acquire it in
some way or other and keep it here."

"But your dogs in the window," Francis observed, "all seem to be in
wonderful condition."

The woman smiled.

"We have a large dog and cat hospital behind," she explained, "and a
veterinary surgeon who is always in attendance. The animals are treated
there as they are brought in, and fed up if they are out of condition.
When they are ready to sell, we show them."

"But is this a commercial undertaking," Francis enquired carefully, "or
is it a branch of the S.P.C.A.?"

"It's quite a private affair, sir," the woman told him. "We charge only
five shillings for the dogs and half-a-crown for the cats, but every one
who has one must sign our book, promising to give it a good home,
and has to be either known to us or to produce references. We do not
attempt, of course, to snake a profit."

"Who on earth is responsible for the upkeep?"

"We are not allowed to mention any names here, sir, but as a matter of
fact I think that your friend knows. He met the gentleman in here one
day. Would you care to have a look at the hospital, sir?"

Francis spent a quarter of an hour wandering around. When they left the
place, Shopland turned to him with a smile.

"Now, sir," he said, "shall I tell you at whose expense that place is
run?"

"I think I can guess," Francis replied. "I should say that Sir Timothy
Brast was responsible for it."

The detective nodd