What a brilliant figure of a man! Famous as a
sportsman, enormously rich, popular in society, at the head of vast
industrial enterprises, and known to have almost controlling power in
affairs of state!

"Never mind, old sport, it takes all kinds of people to make up the world.
Now then, jump!"

So they went on, playing together, master and dog, and were passing around
through the woods on the far side of the coaching party, when, suddenly,
Caesar ceased his romping and began to nose the ground excitedly. Then,
running to his master, he stood with eager eyes, as if urging some pursuit.

The detective observed the dog in surprise. Was this some foolish whim to
follow a squirrel or a rabbit? It wasn't like Caesar.

"Come, come," he reasoned with friendly chiding, "don't be a baby."

Caesar growled in vigorous protest, and darting away, began circling the
ground before him, back and forth, in widening curves, as Coquenil had
taught him.

"Have you found something--sure?"

The animal barked joyously.

M. Paul was puzzled. Evidently there was a scent here, but what scent? He
had made no experiments with Caesar since the night of the crime, when the
dog had taken the scent of the pistol and found the alleyway footprints.
But that was ten days ago; the dog could not still be on that same scent.
Impossible! Yet he was on _some_ scent, and very eagerly. Coquenil had
never seen him more impatient for permission to be off. Could a dog
remember a scent for ten days?

"After all, what harm can it do?" reflected the detective, becoming
interested in his turn. Then, deciding quickly, he gave the word,
"_Cherche!_" and instantly the dog was away.

"He means business," muttered M. Paul, hurrying after him.

On through the woods went Caesar, nose down, tail rigid, following the
scent, moving carefully among the trees, and once or twice losing the
trail, but quickly finding it again, and, presently, as he reached more
open ground, running ahead swiftly, straight toward the coaching party.

In a flash Coquenil realized the danger and called loudly to the dog, but
the distance was too great, and his voice was drowned by the cries of
ladies on the break, who, seeing the bounding animal, screamed their
fright. And no wonder, for this powerful, close-clipped creature, in his
sudden rush looked like some formidable beast of prey; even the men started
up in alarm.

"Caesar!" shouted M. Paul, but it was too late. The dog was flying