ong
pause, and then they heard the sound of light, quick footsteps, and the
door was unlocked.

"Who's there? What is it?" came in a woman's voice, and a quaint figure,
dressed in a short, dark dressing-gown, and looking not unlike Noah's
wife, appeared holding a lantern in her hand. She had a kindly, shrewd
face, and when Radmore said apologetically, "I'm sorry to disturb you,
but the matter is really urgent, and we've brought a sick animal many
miles in order that it may benefit by Mr. Trotman's skill," her face
cleared, and she said cordially: "All right, sir, come right in."

As they walked along through a curious kind of trellised tunnel, Timmy
carrying Josephine and her kittens, there arose an extraordinary chorus
of sounds in which furious barking predominated.

"You have a regular menagerie here," said Radmore, smiling.

"Why, yes, sir," she answered simply, "but they'll all quiet down after a
bit. They're startled like, hearing strange footsteps."

She led them into the house, and so through into a pleasant little
parlour, full of the good 18th Century furniture which may still be found
in the older houses of an English country town. Sporting prints--some of
considerable value--hung on the walls. There was still a little fire
alight in the deep grate, throwing out a warmth that was comforting to
both the man and the boy.

"If you'll wait here, I'll get my husband."

While Mrs. Trotman had left the room, Radmore remarked: "I've made up my
mind what to say to Trotman, so please don't interrupt."

And Timmy listened silently to the explanation his godfather gave of
Josephine's strange behaviour of the night before. It was an explanation
that squared with the facts--at any rate, according to the speaker's
point of view--for Radmore told the famous vet that the cat, upset by the
sight of a strange dog, had flown at a lady and bitten her. He added
frankly that the doctor had suggested that the animal should be kept
under observation, and then he managed to convey that money was no
object, as the cat was a cherished pet sent from France during the War.

Everything was soon arranged, for Mr. Trotman was a man of few words.
Radmore gave his own name and the address of Old Place, and then, just
before leaving the house, he put down a L5 note on the table.

The sturdy, grizzled old man took up the note and held it out to his new
client. "I'd rather not take this, sir, if you don't mind," he said a
little gruffl