"
She ceased speaking and the strange fey light left her eyes. She
dropped upon her knees beside Kerry, bending her head and throwing her
arms about him. He glanced down at her tenderly and laid his hands
upon her shoulders; but he was preoccupied, and the next moment, his
jaws moving mechanically, he was staring straight before him.
"A dog," he muttered, "a dog!"
Mary Kerry did not move; until, a light of understanding coming into
Kerry's fierce eyes, he slowly raised her and stood upright himself.
"I have it!" he said. "Mary, the case is won! Twenty men have spent
the night and early morning beating the river bank so that the very
rats have been driven from their holes. Twenty men have failed where a
dog would have succeeded. Mary, I must be off."
"Ye're no goin' out again, Dan. Ye're weary tee death."
"I must, my dear, and it's you who send me."
"But, Dan, where are ye goin'?"
Kerry grabbed his hat and cane from the sideboard upon which they lay,
and:
"I'm going for the dog!" he rapped.
Weary as he was and travel-stained, for once neglectful of that
neatness upon which he prided himself, he set out, hope reborn in his
heart. His assertion that the very rats had been driven from their
holes was scarce an exaggeration.
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