the familiar corridor
till he reached the three shallow steps which led up to the comparatively
new part of Old Place. There he felt his way with his fingers along the
wall to the room which had always been called, as long as he could
remember, "George's room." Turning the handle of the door slowly, he saw,
to his great surprise and gladness, that his godfather was not asleep.

Radmore was sitting up in bed, reading luxuriously by the light of four
candles which he had placed on a table by his bedside.

"Hello!" he exclaimed, as his godson's odd-looking little figure shuffled
across the room. "Why, what's the matter?" He spoke very kindly, for
Timmy's face was scared, his eyes red-rimmed with crying.

"Come to have a chat, old boy? Why, Timmy--" as he suddenly realised the
boy was fully dressed, "whatever have you been doing? I thought you'd
gone to bed ever so long ago!"

"I've been in bed a long time," answered Timmy, sidling up close to his
bed, "but I've just had a talk with Mum. I've come to ask you, Godfrey,
if you'll help me with something very important." He added: "Even if
you won't help me, I trust you to keep my secret."

"Of course I'll keep your secret, old son."

"I'm going to take Josephine and her kittens to Trotman," Timmy announced
solemnly. "I've been wondering, coming along the passage, if you would
take us there in your motor. But if you don't feel you want to do that,
I'm going to walk. It's not very far, only seven miles if one goes by
footpaths, and I could get a lift back."

"Trotman?" repeated Radmore. "Who's Trotman?"

It was Timmy's turn to be surprised. "I thought everyone--I mean every
man--in the world, knew about Trotman! Why, there was an account of him
once in the _London Magazine_. He's the famous vet--he lives at Epsom."

Radmore lay back, and whistled thoughtfully.

Timmy went on eagerly. "Last year there was a man near here who thought
he had a mad dog--and he took _him_ to Trotman. Trotman kept him for ever
so long, and it turned out that the dog was not mad at all. I _know_ that
Josephine isn't mad."

"I don't think she's mad," said Radmore frankly, "but she's a pretty
vicious brute, Timmy. Is this the first time she's ever flown at anyone?"
He looked searchingly at his godson.

"The very first time of all," answered the boy passionately. "I know why
Josephine flew at Mrs. Crofton--at least she didn't fly at her--at Mrs.
Crofton. She flew at the dog Mrs. Crofton alway