He pointed to a large dish on a side table. On it, writhing gently, was an eel, about ten inches in length.
"That—er—pet," continued the Head, "nearly frightened the housekeeper into hysterics when she opened your bag. You are, of course, aware that pets are permitted at Stockmere, but there are limits in the choice of a selection. Now, Desmond, please explain."
Desmond hesitated. The affair wanted some explanation, but he wasn't at all sure that his elucidation was a correct one.
"I can't exactly explain, sir," he replied. "I didn't put it into my bag, and I certainly didn't intend to frighten Mrs. Symonds or anybody."
"Then how did it get into your bag?" asked the Head patiently. Previous experiences had taught him the advisability of a patient hearing and not to judge by circumstantial evidence. He knew perfectly well the best way to detect a guilty culprit was to let him tell his story without comment until he had made the fatal error of condemning himself.
"It was like this, sir," explained Desmond. "The train was crowded, and I rode in the guard's van. In the van, amongst other things, was a large box labelled 'Eels—Perishable.' It had a small crack in it, and very soon I saw an eel's tail appear. Then somehow other tails found their way through and the box began to open."
Dr. Narfield nodded. He knew from personal experience that eels have frequently been known to force open heavy boxes in which they are packed for transit.
"Go on, Desmond," he said gravely. Tiny, finding that the Head did not ridicule his tale, plunged into his narrative without further hesitation.
"I told the guard," he continued, "but he was busy writing in a book, and told me it wasn't his business. It wasn't mine, so I just watched. And before we got to Little Porton the eels had forced open the box and were wriggling all over the place—hundreds of them, sir. The guard got the wind up then—I mean, sir, he was in a bit of a funk. I didn't exactly care for it myself, although it was a topping rag to watch. So we both sat on some luggage and kept our feet up, although at every station the guard had to get out. And a crowd of eels got out, too. There were dozens of them left on every platform, and by the time we got to Colbury Monkton the van was almost empty. I must have left my bag unfastened—in fact, I remember closing it when I got out—so I suppose one of them wriggled in."
The Head smiled.