into the dark of the Burnham grounds, in pursuit, so Portia declared, of the beast that had so badly torn and clawed the arm and shoulder of the policeman.
Not for a single minute did I believe that those dogs had been guilty of attacking O’Brien, but I could see how the people around considered the matter. In public opinion Boris and Andrei had already been tried and condemned. It made me furious. I pushed my way into the drug-store, although they tried to hold me back, for I was determined to get at Portia. I could see her kneeling by the man’s side, bandaging his arm and shoulder, and the smell of iodoform filled the night air.
Presently she stood up, just as I entered the pharmacy. I thought for a moment that I saw a fleeting reproach in her eyes, and I remembered that it was my insistence upon going to church that had brought Portia out with the dogs.
“There’s nothing else to be done but send him to the hospital when the ambulance comes,” I heard her saying to Dietz, the druggist. “When the relieving officer arrives and starts investigations, I wish it to be given as my statement that my two dogs were leashed securely and I only gave them their freedom after I heard the shot, because I wanted to send them to O’Brien’s assistance.”
Her eyes, cold and stem, passed over the faces of the listeners, who stopped their whispering until she had passed through the crowd. She joined me at the door. We went off down the boulevard together, Portia occasionally whistling to summon the dogs, which dashed up to us just as we turned off the boulevard. I must say that I felt somehow very glad of the protection of those stanch beasts; if I were to take Portia’s word and the officer’s experience, then there was a third white dog abroad, not an entirely agreeable dog to meet, judging from the badly chewed left arm and shoulder of O ’Brien.
We reached home without further incident. Portia let the dogs loose in the enclosure about the house and herself went down at once into the laboratory, with an implacable, set expression on her face that impressed me she knew more than she chose to tell about the happenings of that evening.
Next morning a policeman named O’Toole came to the house to interview Portia as to her share in the evening’s happening. He took down her simple and direct statement without comment, but he did seem (I was present, to confirm Portia’s statement as to her reason for being abroad with the dogs) vastly interested in the great ten-foot wall and in the immense courtyard with its circles and strange symbols cut into the cement paving. He was tactful enough to say nothing, although his eyes roved everywhere. I had a feeling that his reports to interested inquirers in the community would stimulate interest and speculation yet further about the Differdale house. I could almost hear him saying: “Nary a chair. Nothing but cushions to sit on.”
Mrs. differdale called me on the telephone about 11 o’clock to ask if I wouldn’t drop in for tea that afternoon about half past 3; she said she was having somebody else whom she thought I’d enjoy meeting. I really had no good excuse to offer, and on second thought it occurred to me that it might be as well to go, in order to put in a good word for the dogs. I was morally certain that I was being asked to satisfy the curiosity of those two women. I asked Fu to tell his mistress where I’d gone (Portia did not
