But at supper time the man was vividly awake. The strong, supple hands that had made him a surgeon, were suddenly restless and nervous.
“Joe,” he said, “change those hard leather shoes to soft sneakers. Leather soles make too much noise.”
The order had a sound of mystery and adventure. Joe raced upstairs to his room. When he came down the day was gone and darkness lay over the countryside. Lady was already harnessed. Out in the road the boy held to his uncle’s arm and hurried along. Here, walking into a wall of night, he would by himself have to go slowly. But to his uncle the night presented no change, nor did it bring up any new handicap. For to Dr. Stone the world was always dark and black. There was no day or night.
Kent’s car was gone from the driveway. Dr. Stone said: “Easy, Joe; walk on the grass. Any lights?”
“Only in the back.”
It seemed to the boy that his uncle made a sound of satisfaction. The dog, as though sensing the man’s desire for caution, led them slowly, silently. Dr. Stone’s cane touched the tree.
“Lady!” His voice was low.
The dog was all attention.
“Lady, search. Fetch.”
Joe was conscious of the black bulk of the house, a black tower that was the tree, and a blurred shadow moving noiselessly in the grass. Minutes passed, and his heart pounded in his chest. One moment the dog was near him, and the next it was gone. And then the shadow stood motionless beside his uncle.