ll, what did you do?" asked Richard sharply.

"I spoke to the park-keepers, and to a couple of policemen outside, and
then I went on to Scotland Yard. The address is on the collar, sir. I
should think there's no doubt you'll--"

"That'll do!" snapped Richard. "I thought you could be trusted to take a
dog out, at any rate. Well, my mistake."

With a further expression of contrition, the man withdrew, and almost
instantly the telephone-bell on Richard's desk rang sharply.

He went slowly to the telephone, and managed to put the concentration of
weariness and disgust into the word "Hallo!"

The voice that answered him was the voice of Mr Murray.

"That you, Staines? ... Right--yes, quite well, thanks.... I wanted to
say when Jane got back this evening she found Zero waiting for her
outside our front door.... He's here now, and seems quite cheerful about
it.... Thought you might like to know."

Richard rapidly changed his tone of dejection for that of social
enthusiasm. He thanked profusely. He would send for the dog at once.

"Well, look here," said Mr Murray, "Jane and I have got a night
off--dining alone. If by any chance you're free, I wish you'd join us.
Then you can take the intelligent hound back with you."

Richard said that he was free, which was a lie; and that he would be
delighted to come, which was perfectly true.

He subsequently rang up a man at his club, cancelled an engagement on
the score of ill-health, and went to dress. Such was his elation that he
even condescended to tell his servant that the dog had been found and
was all right.

Zero had done wrong. He must have known that he had done wrong; but he
welcomed his master with gambols in the manner of an ecstatic bullock,
and showed no sign of penitence at all. It was the habit of Richard to
punish a dog that had done wrong, but he did not punish Zero. He called
him a silly old idiot, and asked him what he thought he had been doing,
but Zero recognised that this was badinage and exercised his tail
furiously.

At dinner, Mr Murray said that Zero was an interesting problem. The dog
was apparently a fine judge at sight of the stability of structures, but
could not find his way home.

"That's not proved," said Richard, laughing. "He knew his way home all
right, but he was trying to better himself. He's not fed at tea-time in
St James's Place."

"He's had nothing here," said Jane.

"Really, Jane," said her father.

"Practically nothing. A