We buzzed on through the pleasant countryside. The sun shone in the sky: birds tootled in the hedgerows: the engine of the two-seater hummed smoothly. And then, fairly suddenly, I became aware that the engine was not humming so smoothly. It had begun to knock And then there was a sizzling noise, and steam began to creep out of the top of the radiator-cap.

  Joe made one or two remarks concerning the man at the hotel who had forgotten to put water in the radiator.

  'You can get some at that cottage,' I said.

  There was a cottage down the road, standing by itself in a lot of trees. Joe pulled up the car and got down.

  I’ll stay here and look after your satchel,' I said. There was no sense in not being civil and obliging.

  'No, you won't. I'll take it with me.'

  'It will hamper you if you're going to carry a pail of water.’

  Td look silly leaving my satchel with you, wouldn't I?'

  I don't know which distressed me the more, his sickening want of ordinary trust or his absurd respect for appearances.

  The man seemed to go through the world in a restless fear lest some action of his might make him look silly.

  And he couldn't possibly have looked sillier than he did about two minutes later.

  This cottage, Corky, was separated from the road by iron railings with a gate in them. The bloke Joe shoved this gate open and went into the front garden. And he was just starting to move round in the direction of the back door when round the corner of the house there suddenly came trotting a dog.

  Joe stopped, and the dog stopped. They stood there for a moment, drinking each other in.

  'Ger-r-r!' said Joe.

  Now mind you, there was absolutely nothing about this dog to inspire alarm. Certainly it was on the large side and had rather a rolling eye; but I could see at a glance that it was just one of those friendly mongrels which your man of the world greets with a cheerful chirrup and prods in the ribs without a second thought. But Joe seemed ill at ease.

  The dog came a step closer. I think he wanted to smell Joe, though I could have told him, as a friend, that there was neither profit nor pleasure to be derived from such a course.

  'Gerroutofit!' said Joe.

  The dog edged forward. Then, in a tentative sort of way, he barked. And Joe seemed to lose his head completely. Instead of trying to conciliate the animal, he picked up a stone and threw it.

  Well, you simply can't do that sort of thing to a dog you don't know in his own garden.

  It was the satchel that saved Joe. It shows the lengths to which fear will drive a man, Corky; and if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes I wouldn't have believed it. But it's the truth that as that dog came leaping up in a business-like way that it did me good to watch, Joe the Lawyer, having given one look over his shoulder at the gate and decided that he couldn't make it, uttered a piercing cry and flung considerably over two hundred quid in bank-notes at the animal. The satchel took him low down on the chest, got entangled in his legs, and held him up. And while he was trying to unscramble himself, Joe nipped to the gate and slammed it behind him.

  It was only then that he seemed to realize what a perfect chump he had made of himself,

  'Gawblimey!' said Joe.

  The dog left the satchel and came to the gate. He shoved his nose as far through the bars as he could manage, and made a noise like a saxophone.

  'Now you've done it,' I said.

  And so he had, and I was glad, Corky. It pleased me sincerely to find a man who prided himself on his acumen capable of such perfectly cloth-headed behaviour. Here was this blighter, admired by all - provided they didn't have business dealings with him - for his wideness, breaking down lamentably in the first crisis where he was called upon to show a little ordinary intelligence. He had allowed himself to be out-generalled by a humble unit of the animal kingdom, and I had no sympathy for him.

  However, I didn't say so. One must be diplomatic. I had not altogether given up hope of floating that loan, and anything in the nature of frivolous comment would, I felt, have the worst effect on the negotiations.

  'What'll I do?' said Joe, after a few general remarks.

  'Better shout,' I suggested.

  So he shouted. But nothing happened. The fact is, these bookies are never in very good voice after a day at the races, and he was handicapped by a certain roopiness. Besides, the owner of the cottage was evidently one of those blokes who plough the fields and scatter the good seed o'er the land, and he seemed to be out somewhere ploughing and scattering now. Joe began to get emotional

  'Gawblimey!' he said, with tears in his voice. 'This is a nice thing! Here I am, late already, and if I don't get to Sandown in time for the first race it's going to mean hundreds of pounds out of my pocket.'

  You will scarcely credit it, Corky, but this was the first moment that that aspect of the affair had presented itself to me. His words opened up an entirely new train of thought. Naturally, I now perceived, mugs being what they are, every, race a bookie misses means so much dead loss to him. Sandown was crowded with potential losers, all waiting to hand their money over to Joe; and, if he was not there, what would happen? They had to give their money to someone, so they would hand it over to one of his trade rivals. I felt as if a sudden bright light had flashed upon me.

  'Look here,' I said, 'if you will lend me fifty quid, I'll go in and get that satchel for you. I'm not afraid of a dog.'

  He did not answer. He cocked an eye at me; then he cocked an eye at the satchel. I could see he was weighing the proposition. But at this moment the luck went against me. The dog, getting a bit bored, gave a sniff and trotted back round the corner of the house. And no sooner had he disappeared than Joe, feeling that now was the time, popped through the gate and galloped for the satchel.

  Well, Corky, you know me. Alert. Resourceful. There was a stick lying in the road, and a leap for it and grab it was with me the work of a moment. I rattled it energetically along the railings. And back came old Colonel Dog as if I had pulled him at the end of a rope. It was an occasion when Joe had to move quick, and he did so. He had perhaps a foot to spare, or it may have been eight inches.

  He was a good deal annoyed, and for a while spoke freely of this and that.

  'Fifty quid,' I said, when there was a lull.

  He looked at me. Then he nodded. I don't say he nodded genially, but he nodded. And I opened the gate and went in.

  The dog bounded at me, barking; but I knew that was all swank, and I told him so. I bent down and slapped his tummy, and the dog shoved his paws on my shoulders and licked my face. Then I took his head and waggled it sideways once or twice, and he took my hand in his mouth and gnawed it slightly. Then I rolled him over and began punching his chest; and then, when these civilities were finished, I got up and looked round for the satchel.

  It was gone. And there was that blot on the human race, Joe the Lawyer, standing outside, fondling it as if it were a baby. Not that a man like that would fondle a baby, of course. Much more likely to kick it in the face and break open its money-box. But what I mean is, he'd dashed in when my back was turned and collared the satchel.

  I had a grim foreboding that our little deal was off, but I displayed a cheerful exterior.

  In large notes,' I said.

  'Eh?' said the bloke Joe.

  ‘I'd rather have my fifty quid in large notes. They take up less room in the pocket.'

  'What fifty quid?'

  'The fifty quid you were going to give me for getting the satchel.'

  He gaped.

  'Well I'll be blowed!' he said. ‘I like that! Who got the satchel, you or me?'

  'I soothed the dog.'

  'If you like to waste your time playing with dogs, that's your business. I'd look silly, wouldn't I, giving you fifty quid for playing with dogs? But, if you like doing it, you go on playing with him while I step down the road and get some water from one of those other cottages.'

  Black-hearted. That, Corky, is the only adjective. It seemed to
me at that moment as though this bloke Joe had allowed me to peer into his soul; and it was like looking into, a dark cellar on a moonless night.

  'Here, I say -' I began, but he had gone.

  How long I stood there I don't know. But, though it seemed a lifetime, it couldn't really have been long, for Joe didn't come back with the water; and a faint hope began to steal over me that he had found another dog at one of the other cottages and was now being bitten to the bone. And then I heard footsteps.

  I looked round. A cove was approaching.

  'Is this your cottage?’ I asked.

  He was a rural-looking sort of cove, with a full beard and corduroy trousers with string tied round the knees. He came up and stood gazing at the car. Then he looked at me, and then at the car again.

  'Ah?' he said. A bit deaf he seemed to be.

  'Is this your cottage?'

  ‘Ah.'

  'We stopped here to get some water.'

  He said he hadn't got a daughter. I said I never said he had.

  'Water!'

  'Ah.'

  'But there was nobody in. So the man with me went down the road.'

  'Ah,' said the cove. 'He was frightened by your dog.’’

  Ah?'

  'By your dog.’ 'Buy my dog?’ 'Yes.'

  'You can have him for five shillings.’

  Now, as I said before, Corky, you know me. You know that the reason why one of these days I shall make an enormous fortune and retire to spend the evening of my life in affluence is that I have that strange knack, which is given to so few men, of seizing opportunity when it calls. An ordinary mutton-headed fellow like you -1 use the expression without any intention of offence - would, undoubtedly, at this juncture, have raised his voice a trifle and explained to this bearded cove that the intricacies of the English language had led him into a pardonable error.

  But did I? No, I did not. For, even as he spoke an idea exploded in my brain like a bomb.

  'Done!' I cried. ‘Ah?'

  'Here's your five bob. Whistle to the dog.'

  He whistled, and the dog came running up. And, having massaged his ribs a while, I picked him up and shoved him inside the car and banged the door. And then I saw Joe the Lawyer plodding up the road slopping water from a big pail.

  ‘I got it,' he said.

  He went round and unscrewed the cap of the radiator and was starting to pour the water in, when the dog barked. Joe looked up, saw him, and dropped the pail - happily over his trousers.

  'Who put that dog in the car?' he said. 'I did. I've bought him.' 'Then you can damn' well take him out.’ 'But I'm bringing him home with me.' 'Not in my car.'

  'Well, then,' I said, 'I'll sell him to you, and you can do what you like about him.' He exhibited a good deal of impatience. 'I don't want to buy any dogs.'

  'Nor did I, till you talked me into it. And I don't see what you have to complain of. This dog's alive. The one you sold me was dead.'

  'What do you want for him?'

  ‘A hundred pounds.'

  He staggered somewhat. 'A hundred pounds?' 'That's all. Don't let the boys hear of it, or they'll think me silly.'

  He spoke for a while.

  'A hundred and fifty,' I said. 'The market's rising.'

  'Now, listen, listen, listen!' said the bloke Joe.

  'I'll tell you what I'll do,' I said. 'And this is a firm offer. One hundred pounds, if paid within the minute. After that the price will go up.'

  Corky, old horse, I have in my time extracted various sums of money from various people, and some of them have given cheerfully of their abundance and others have unbelted in a manner that you might call wry. But never in the whole of my

  career have I beheld a fellow human being cough up in quite the spirit that this bloke Joe the Lawyer did. He was a short-necked man, and there was one moment when I thought his blood-pressure was going to be too much for him. He turned a rather vivid shade of maroon, and his lips trembled as if he were praying. But in the end he dipped into the satchel and counted out the money.

  ‘Thanks,' I said. ‘Well, good-bye’

  He seemed to be waiting for something.

  ‘Good-bye,' I said again. "I don't want to hurt your feelings, laddie, but I must decline to continue in your society. We are nearing civilization now, and at any moment some friend of mine might see me in your car, which would jeopardize my social prestige. I will walk to the nearest railway station.'

  ‘But, gawblimey -'

  ‘Now what?'

  ‘Aren't you going to take that dog out of the car?' he said, specifying what sort of a dog it was in his opinion. He also added a few remarks in a derogatory spirit about myself.

  ‘Me?' I said. 'Why? I simply sold him to you. My part in the transaction is ended.'

  ‘But how'm I going to get to Sandown if I can't get into my car?'

  ‘Why do you want to get to Sandown?'

  'If I'm late, it means hundreds of pounds out of my pocket.'

  'Ah?' I said. 'Then, of course, you'll be willing to pay large sums to anyone who helps you to get there. I don't mind lending you a hand, if it's made worth my while. Removing dogs from cars is highly specialized work, and I'll have to insist on specialist's prices. Shall we say fifty quid for the job?'

  He yammered a good deal, but I cut him short.

  'Take it or leave it,' I said. 'It's all the same to me.'

  Whereupon he produced the stipulated sum, and I opened the door and hauled the dog out. And Joe got in without a word and drove off. And that, Corky, is the last I have seen of the man. Nor do I wish to see him again. He is slippery, Corky. Not honest. A man to avoid.

  I took the dog back to the cottage, and bellowed for the bearded cove.

  ‘I sha'n't want this, after all,' I said. 'You can have him.'

  'Ah?'

  ‘I don't want this dog.'

  'Ah! Well, you won't get your five shillings back.'

  'God bless you, my merry peasant,' I said, slapping the cove genially abaft the collar-stud. 'Keep it with my blessing. I toss such sums to the birds.'

  And he said 'Ah' and pushed off; and I toddled along to see if I could find a station. And I sang, Corky, old boy. Yes, laddie, your old friend, as he strode through those country lanes, trilled like a bally linnet.

  Next day I looked in at the pawnbroker's, shelled out the requisite cash, recovered the brooch, and bunged it back into the bureau drawer.

  And on the following morning my aunt turned up in a taxi and, having paid it its legal fare, backed me into the library and fixed me with a burning eye.

  'Stanley,' she said.

  'Say on, Aunt Julia,' I said.

  'Stanley, Miss Vining tells me you refused to allow her to obtain my diamond brooch.'

  'Quite right, Aunt Julia. She wanted to break open your bureau drawer, but I would have none of it.'

  'Shall I tell you why?'

  'It was because she had lost the key.'

  'I am not referring to that, as you know very well. Shall I tell you why you would not let her break open the drawer?'

  'Because I respected your property too much.'

  'Indeed? I incline to think that it was because you knew the brooch was not there.'

  'I don't understand.'

  T, on the contrary, did - the moment I received Miss Vining's letter. I saw it all. You pawned that brooch, Stanley! I know you so well.'

  I drew myself up.

  'You cannot know me very well, Aunt Julia,' I said coldly, "if you think that of me. And allow me to say, while on this subject, that your suspicions are unworthy of an aunt.'

  'Never mind what they're unworthy of. Open that drawer.'

  ‘Break it open?' 'Break it open.' ‘With a poker?'

  'With anything you please. But opened it shall be, now, and in my presence.' I gazed at her haughtily.

  ‘Aunt Julia,' I said, 'let us get this thing straight. You wish me to take a poker or some other blunt instrument and smash that bureau?'

  ‘I do.
'

  Think well.'

  ‘I have done all the thinking necessary.'

  ‘So be it!' I said.

  So I took the poker, and I set about that bureau as probably no bureau has ever been set about since carpentry first began. And there, gleaming in the ruins, was the brooch.

  'Aunt Julia,' I said, 'a little trust, a little confidence, a little faith, and this might have been avoided.'

  She gulped pretty freely.

  'Stanley,' she said at last, ‘I wronged you.'

  ‘You did.'

  'I -1 - well, I'm sorry.'

  ‘You may well be, Aunt Julia,' I said.

  And, pursuing my advantage, I ground the woman into apologetic pulp beneath what practically amounted to an iron heel. And in that condition, Corky, she still remains. How long it will last one cannot say, but for the time being I am the blue-eyed boy and I have only to give utterance to my lightest whim to have her jump six feet to fulfil it. So, when I said I wanted to ask you to dinner here tonight, she practically smiled. Let us go into the library, old horse, and trifle with the cigars. They are some special ones I had sent up from that place in Piccadilly.