“Where is it now?” said Mrs. Brown anxiously.
“In the back garden.”
Mr. Brown folded up his paper.
“Digging up my flower-beds, I suppose,” he said with despairing resignation.
“He’s tied up all right,” William reassured him. “I tied him to the tree in the middle of the rose-bed.”
“The rose-bed!” groaned his father. “Good Lord!”
“Has he had anything to eat?” demanded Robert sternly.
“Yes,” said William, avoiding his mother’s eye. “I found a few bits of old things for him in the larder.”
William’s father took out his watch and rose from the table.
“Well, you’d better take it to the Police Station this afternoon,” he said shortly.