"This is Lad," introduced the Mistress. "I hope you don't mind our bringing him. I can promise he won't be a bit of trouble to anybody. We didn't mean to bring him. It just happened. This was the way:—"
While she was recounting the adventure to Mrs. Harmon, their host drew the Master to one side.
"Say, old man," began Harmon, with visible discomfort, "please don't misunderstand me or anything. But I'm a little bothered about just what to do. This is the idea: There was a mad dog scare here in Daylight Park, last month, when a Pom puppy snapped at some kids that were teasing it. Then, a day or so later, a Persian cat had fits and chased old Mrs. Cratchitt across a lawn and gave her a spell of palpitation of the heart. And the next day an Angora goat that the Varian children had as a pet got loose and chewed up several hundred dollars' worth of lingerie off a line. Then the Clives' spaniel took to barking under Rutherford Garretse's study window. And—"
"You needn't be afraid of Lad's doing any of those fool things," bragged the Master. "He behaves as well as any human. Better than most of them. He—"
"That isn't the point," said his host, with growing uneasiness. "You see, Daylight Park is run as a club. Home government and all that sort of thing. Well, these livestock fracases raised such a row that the club's Board of Governors has passed an ordinance, forbidding the keeping of any pet animals in the whole park. Nothing bigger than a canary bird can be harbored here. It's a hard-and-fast rule. It seemed the only way to save our whole summer colony from disruption. You know a livestock squabble can cause more ructions in a small community than—"
"I see," mused the Master, staring glumly after Lad who was just vanishing into the house in the wake of the Mistress and the unhappy Mrs. Harmon. "I see. H'm!"
He pondered for an instant, while his host shifted from foot to foot and looked apologetic. Then the Master spoke again.
"The only way out, that I see," he hazarded, "is for me to drive back home with Lad; and leave him there and come on here, tomorrow. I can—"
"Nothing of the sort!" protested Harmon, "There's an easier way than that. Wittsville is only a mile or so from the Park gates. They've got a fine boarding kennel there. Several of the Park's dogs were exiled to it, when our ordinance went into effect. Jump into the car, and we'll take your collie there in ten minutes. He'll be well treated. And you and your wife can go to see him, every day you're here. Come along. I—I hate to seem inhospitable about this thing. But you see for yourself how it is. We—"
"Certainly," assented the Master. "I'll go in and get him and explain to my wife. Don't let it make you feel uncomfortable. We both understand."