Mr. Brown went out without answering.

"You'll have to take it, you know, William," said Mrs. Brown, "so be quick. You know where the Police Station is, don't you? Shall I come with you?"

"No, thank you," said William hastily.

A few minutes later he was walking down to the Police Station followed by the still eager Jumble, who trotted along, unconscious of his doom.

Upon William's face was a set, stern expression which cleared slightly as he neared the Police Station. He stood at the gate and looked at Jumble. Jumble placed his front paws ready for a game and wagged his tail.

"Well," said William, "here you are. Here's the Police Station."

Jumble gave a shrill bark. "Hurry up with that stick or that race, whichever you like," he seemed to say.

"Well, go in," said William, nodding his head in the direction of the door.

Jumble began to worry a big stone in the road. He rolled it along with his paws, then ran after it with fierce growls.

"Well, it's the Police Station," said William. "Go in if you want."

With that he turned on his heel and walked home, without one backward glance. But he walked slowly, with many encouraging "Hey! Jumbles" and many short commanding whistles. And Jumble trotted happily at his heels.

There was no one in the garden, there was no one in the hall, there was no one on the stairs. Fate was for once on William's side.

William appeared at the tea-table well washed and brushed, wearing that air of ostentatious virtue that those who knew him best connected with his most daring coups.

"Did you take that dog to the Police Station, William?" said William's father.

William coughed.

[Ill.u.s.tration: JUMBLE TROTTED ALONG UNCONSCIOUS OF HIS DOOM.]

"Yes, father," he said meekly with his eyes upon his plate.

"What did they say about it?"

"Nothing, father."

"I suppose I'd better spend the evening replanting those rose-trees,"

went on his father bitterly.

"And William gave him a _whole_ steak and kidney pie," murmured Mrs.

Brown. "Cook will have to make another for to-morrow."

William coughed again politely, but did not raise his eyes from his plate.

"What is that noise?" said Ethel. "Listen!"

They sat, listening intently. There was a dull grating sound as of the scratching of wood.

"It's upstairs," said Robert with the air of a Sherlock Holmes.

Then came a shrill, impatient bark.

"It's a _dog_!" said the four of them simultaneously. "It's William's dog."

They all turned horrified eyes upon William, who coloured slightly but continued to eat a piece of cake with an unconvincing air of abstraction.

"I thought you said you'd taken that dog to the Police Station, William," said Mr. Brown sternly.

"I did," said William with decision. "I did take it to the Police Station an' I came home. I s'pose it must of got out an' come home an'

gone up into my bedroom."

"Where did you leave it? In the Police Station?"

"No--at it--jus' at the gate."

Mr. Brown rose with an air of weariness.

"Robert," he said, "will you please see that that animal goes to the Police Station this evening?"

"Yes, father," said Robert, with a vindictive glare at William.

William followed him upstairs.

"Beastly nuisance!" muttered Robert.

Jumble, who was chewing William's door, greeted them ecstatically.

"Look!" said William bitterly. "Look at how it knows one! Nice thing to send a dog that knows one like that to the Police Station! Mean sort of trick!"

Robert surveyed it coldly.

"Rotten little mongrel!" he said from the heights of superior knowledge.

"Mongrel!" said William indignantly. "There jus' isn't no mongrel about _him_. Look at him! An' he can learn tricks easy as easy. Look at him sit up and beg. I only taught him this afternoon."

He took a biscuit out of his pocket and held it up. Jumble rose unsteadily on to his hind legs and tumbled over backwards. He wagged his tail and grinned, intensely amused. Robert's expression of superiority relaxed.

"Do it again," he said. "Not so far back. Here! Give it me. Come on, come on, old chap! That's it! Now stay there! Stay there! Good dog! Got any more? Let's try him again."

During the next twenty minutes they taught him to sit up and almost taught him "Trust" and "Paid for." There was certainly a charm about Jumble. Even Robert felt it. Then Ethel's voice came up the stairs.

"Robert! Sydney Bellew's come for you."

"Blow the wretched dog!" said the fickle Robert rising, red and dishevelled from stooping over Jumble. "We were going to walk to Fairfields and the beastly Police Station's right out of our way."

"I'll take it, Robert," said William kindly. "I will really."

Robert eyed him suspiciously.