A Dog with a Bad Name

by Talbot Baines Reed

Raby was the first to stop abruptly.

“Let us go another way, Mr Jeffreys, if you don’t mind. I don’t like this avenue.”

“No more do I,” said Jeffreys, who had stopped too.

“Why?” she asked.

“Need I say?”

“Not if you don’t like.”

“I have not walked down here since an afternoon last October. There was a sudden storm of rain—”

“What! Were you here then?”

“I was. You did not see me.”

“You saw me then. I was with Mr Scarfe.”