"
Two mornings later the conspirators stood gazing guiltily at a stout
square box, connected with the gas-bracket by a length of indiarubber
tubing.
"Not a sound," said Elsie; "he never stirred; it must have been quite
painless. All the same I feel rather horrid now it's done."
"The ghastly part has to come," said Strudwarden, turning off the gas.
"We'll lift the lid slowly, and let the gas out by degrees. Swing the
door to and fro to send a draught through the room."
Some minutes later, when the fumes had rushed off, he stooped down and
lifted out the little kennel with its grim burden. Elsie gave an
exclamation of terror. Louis sat at the door of his dwelling, head erect
and ears pricked, as coldly and defiantly inert as when they had put him
into his execution chamber. Strudwarden dropped the kennel with a jerk,
and stared for a long moment at the miracle-dog; then he went into a peal
of chattering laughter.
It was certainly a wonderful imitation of a truculent-looking toy
Pomeranian, and the apparatus that gave forth a wheezy bark when you
pressed it had materially helped the imposition that Lena, and Lena's
maid, had foisted on the household.
Pages:
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59