Annabel was yawning, and Dana Hammorid was looking at her as if that was exactly what he had come to Birchvale for, to see her yawn. Lina Darrow was looking from

Barry Rackham to me and back again, and pretending she wasn't looking anywhere with those eyes. The Doberman pinscher was standing tense, and Pierce, from a safe ten feet-one more than springing distance-was regarding it with an expression that gave me a more sympathetic feeling for him than I ever expected to have for a statesman.

Calvin Leeds and Mrs Rackham were also looking at the dog, with a quite different expression.

“At least two pounds overweight, Leeds was saying. “You feed him too much.

Mrs Rackham protested that she didn't.

Then you don't run him enough.

“I know it, she admitted. “I will from now on, I'll be here more. I was busy to-day. I'll take him out now. It's a perfect night for a good walk-Barry, do you feel like walking?

He didn't. He was nice about it, but he didn't. She broadened the invitation to take in the group, but there were no takers. She offered to walk Leeds and me home, but Leeds said she would go too slow, and he should have been in bed long ago since his rising time was six o'clock. He moved, and told me to come on if I was coming.

We said good night and left.

The outdoor air was sharper now. There were a few stars but no moon, and alone with no flashlight I would never have been able to keep that trail through the woods and might have made the Hillside Kennels clearing by dawn. For Leeds a flashlight would have been only a nuisance. He strode along at the same gait as in the daytime, and I stumbled at his heels, catching my toes on things, teetering on roots and pebbles, and once going clear down. I am not a deerstalker and don't want to be. As we approached the kennels Leeds called out, and the sound came of many movements, but not a bark. Who wants a dog, let alone thirty or forty, not even human enough to bark when you come home?