“He used to say,” she continued in a moment, “that I’d never break my heart over a lost uncle, but that if I lost Waffles I’d die of grief. It wasn’t so, of course. But I’m heart-broken to have Waffles gone. He is all I’ll have to remember Uncle Haddon by. And then—to have him—go!”
“I should take it a pleasure to be employed upon a case to fetch him back,” said Mr. Gubb.
“Oh, would you?” cried Miss O’Hara. “I’m so glad! I was afraid a—a real detective might not want to bother with a dog. Of course I’ll pay—”
“The remuneration will be minimum on account of the smallness of the crime under the statutes made and provided,” said Mr. Gubb.
“But you must let me pay!” urged Miss O’Hara. “One of the things Uncle Haddon said was, ‘If you ever lose that dog, Dolly, hire Detective Gubb. Understand? He’s a wonderful detective. He’ll leave no stone unturned. He’ll find your dog. He’ll pry the roof off the dog-house to find a flea, and when he’s found the flea he’ll hunt up a blond dog to match it. Remember,’ he said, ‘if you lose the dog, get Gubb.’”
“I consider the compliment the highest form of flattery,” said Mr. Gubb.
“So I want you to try to find Waffles, please, if it isn’t beneath you to hunt a dog,” said Miss O’Hara. “How much will you charge to find Waffles, Mr. Gubb?”
“I’d ought to have five dollars—” Mr. Gubb began doubtfully.
“Of course!” exclaimed Miss O’Hara. “Why, I expected to pay far more.”
“Well and good,” said Mr. Gubb. “And now, how aged was the dog when he was purloined away from you?”