"What have you done with him?" he asked.
"I left him in the grounds; I promised to take food and drink to him," I said.
He paced about the room for a moment or two, with his arms folded, and his chin in the hollow of one hand. "I don't like the look of things at all; it seems almost as if a net were closing in about us," he said at last. "Harvey Scoffold was bad enough; now comes someone who, according to your description, is scarcely likely to prove as reasonable even as Scoffold might be. This dog scents money, I take it?"
"He scents everything that means easy living, and no work, and safety," I answered.
"Bring him in here; perhaps I may be able to deal with him better than you," said the doctor suddenly. "We'll feed him, and we'll see what he has to say for himself. That's the ticket; bring him in here."
I went out at once into the grounds, and was relieved to see George Rabbit slouch out from the shadows of the trees, and come towards me. "Bin a bloomin' long time, you 'ave," he growled resentfully.
"Don't be impudent," I said sharply. "Come into the house, and I'll give you a meal."
He drew back and shook his head. "Not me," he replied. "I ain't goin' to run into no traps. 'Ow do I know who's inside, or wot's goin' to 'appen to me? I'm safe 'ere, an' 'ere I'll stop."
"What's to harm you?" I asked him. "You've nothing to fear; you've worked out your time, and are a free man. If anyone has to be afraid of what's going to happen, I think I'm the man."
"Never mind abaht that; I tell yer I ain't goin' in," he said doggedly.