But what eccentricity of genius could account for
his costume and for this bellicose method of bearing down upon a
neighbor's home, was more than the Master could guess.
Nor did the visitor's first words clear up the mystery. Halting
at the foot of the steps, Rutherford Garretse gesticulated in
dumb anguish, while he fought for breath and for coherent speech.
Then, disregarding Harmon's wondering greeting, the celebrity
burst into choking staccato speech.
"That dog!" he croaked. "That--that--DOG! The maid saw him go
into the house. Saw him go up to my study. She was afraid to
follow, at first. But in a few minutes she did. She saw him
coming out of my study! COME!!! I demand it. All of you. COME!"
Without another word, he wheeled and made off down the road,
pausing only to beckon imperiously. Marveling, the group on the
veranda followed. Deaf to their questions, he led the way. Lad
fell into line behind the perplexed Mistress.
Down the road to the next house, stalked Rutherford Garretse. At
the doorway, he repeated his dramatic gesture and commanded
"COME!"
Up the broad stairs he stamped.
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