She stretched her sinewy neck, sniffed along the course his fingertips had taken, backed up a step, and looked up at him.

“Don't be so damn' sure, Leeds told her. He pointed a finger. Take it again.

She did so, taking more time for it, and again looked up at him.

“I didn't know they were hounds, I remarked.

“They're everything they ought to be. I suppose Leeds made some signal, though

I didn't see it, and the dog started towards the door, with her master at the other end of the leash. “They have excellent scent, and this one's extraordinary. She's Nobby's mother.

Outside, on the slab of stone where we had found Nobby, Leeds said, “Take it,

Hebe, and when she made a low noise in her throat as she tightened the leash, he added: “Quiet, now. I'll do the talking.

She took him, with me at their heels, around the corner of the house to the gravelled space, across that, along the wall of the main outbuilding, and to a corner of the enclosed run. There she stopped and lifted her head.

Leeds waited half a minute before he spoke. “Bah. Can't you tell dogs apart?

Take it!

I switched the flashlight on, got a reprimand, and switched it off. Hebe made her throat noise again, got her nose down, and started off. We crossed the meadow on the trail to the edge of the woods and kept going. The pace was steady but not fast; for me it was an easy stroll, nothing like the race Leeds had led me previously. Even with no leaves on the trees it was a lot darker there, but unless my sense of direction was completely cockeyed we were sticking to the trail I had been over twice before.

“We're heading straight for the house, aren't we? I asked.