d luck, and here was one washed in
at my very feet.

Mr. Reynolds came back soon, and reported the house quiet and in
order.

"But I found Peter shut up in one of the third-floor rooms," he said.
"Did you put him there?"

I had not, and said so; but as the dog went everywhere, and the door
might have blown shut, we did not attach much importance to that at
the time.

Well, the skiff was gone, and there was no use worrying about it until
morning. I went back to the sofa to keep warm, but I left my candle
lighted and my door open. I did not sleep: the dead cat was on my
mind, and, as if it were not bad enough to have it washed in at my
feet, about four in the morning Peter, prowling uneasily, discovered
it and brought it in and put it on my couch, wet and stiff, poor
little thing!

I looked at the clock. It was a quarter after four, and except for
the occasional crunch of one ice-cake hitting another in the yard,
everything was quiet. And then I heard the stealthy sound of oars in
the lower hall.

I am not a brave woman. I lay there, hoping Mr. Reynolds would hear
and open his door. But he was sleeping soundly. Peter snarled and ran
out into the hall, and the next moment I heard Mr. Ladley speaking.
"Down, Peter," he said. "Down. Go and lie down."

I took my candle and went out into the hall. Mr. Ladley was stooping
over the boat, trying to tie it to the staircase. The rope was short,
having been cut, and he was having trouble. Perhaps it was the
candle-light, but he looked ghost-white and haggard.

"I borrowed your boat, Mrs. Pitman," he said, civilly enough. "Mrs.
Ladley was not well, and I--I went to the drug store."

"You've been more than two hours going to the drug store," I said.

He muttered something about not finding any open at first, and went
into his room. He closed and locked the door behind him, and although
Peter whined and scratched, he did not let him in.

He looked so agitated that I thought I had been harsh, and that
perhaps she was really ill. I knocked at the door, and asked if I
could do anything. But he only called "No" curtly through the door,
and asked me to take that infernal dog away.

I went back to bed and tried to sleep, for the water had dropped an
inch or so on the stairs, and I knew the danger was over. Peter came,
shivering, at dawn, and got on to the sofa with me. I put an end of
the quilt over him, and he stopped shivering after a time and went to
sleep.

The dog was