A Dumb Detective
The Wife’s Story
“I'll be back shortly,” said my husband, as he buttoned his coat and prepared to leave the house.
“It seems to me,” I replied, “that, unless it is very important, you had better not go out in such a storm as this. Why, the night is fearful.”
“I have engaged to meet Charlie Dinsmore, to talk over a matter of business. It is a shabby night; but I shan’t be gone more than an hour.”
While this conversation was taking place, Hero, our St. Bernard dog, rose from the rug in front of the grate-fire, and prepared to accompany his master.
“Why, Hero!” I laughed, “you are surely not obliged to see a man on business. Stay with your mistress like a good dog, and don't go out such a night as this.”
He came and put his nose on my shoulder, and laid his face against mine —a singular caress for a brute—and then, with a parting lick of my hair, went decorously to the door and waited for his master.
“Not to-night, Hero,” said my husband. “If… Read More