indoors at night with your books instead of boozing and chasing women.
Is that clear?"
"Quite." The young man inclined his head gracefully and turned down
the .
knob on the anaesthetic machine.
His brother regarded him balefully for a few moments, breathing
deeply.
These remonstrations al ways took it out of him. Then he turned away
quickly and left.
Tristan's facade crumbled as soon as the door closed.
"Watch the anaesthetic for a minute, Jim," he croaked. He went over to
the .
basin in the corner, filled a measuring jar with cold water and drank
it at a long gulp. Then he soaked some cotton wool under the tap and
applied it to his brow.
"I wish he hadn't come in just then. I'm in no mood for the raised
voices and angry words." He reached up to a large bottle of aspirins,
swallowed a few and washed them down with another gargantuan draught.
"All right then, Jim," he murmured as he returned to the table and took
over the mask again.
"Let's go."
I bent once more over the sleeping dog. He was a Scottie called Hamish
and his mistress, Miss Wester man, had brought him in two days ago.
She was a retired school teacher and I al ways used to think she must
have had little trouble in keeping her class in order. The chilly pale
eyes loo king straight into mine reminded me that she was as tall as I
was and the square jaw between the muscular shoulders completed a
redoubtable presence.
"Mr Herriot," she barked.
"I want you to have a look at Hamish. I do hope it's nothing serious
but his ear has become very swollen and painful. They don't get er -
cancer there, do they?" For a moment the steady gaze wavered.
"Oh that's most unlikely." I lifted the little animal's chin and
looked at thc left ear which was drooping over the side of his face.
His whole head, in fact, was askew as though dragged down by pain.
Carefully I liDed the ear and touched the tense swelling with a
forefingct Hamish looked around at me and whimpered.
"Yes, I know, old chap. It's tender, isn't it?" As I turned to Miss
Western~ I almost bumped into the close-cropped iron-grey head which
was hovering close over the little dog.
"He's got an aural haematoma," I said.
"What on earth is that?"
., ' Lr' c' Opzn b "It's when the little blood vessels between the skin
and cartilage of the ear rupture and the blood flows out and causes
this acute distension."
She patted the jet black shaggy coat.
"But what causes it?"
Canker, usually. Has he been shaking his head lately?"
"Yes, now you mention it he has. Just as though he had got something
in his ear and was trying to get rid of it."
"Well that's what bursts the blood vessels. I can see he has a touch
of canker though it isn't common in this breed."
She nodded.
"I see. And how can you cure it?"
I "Only by an operation, I'm afraid."
I"Oh dear!" She put her hand to her mouth.
"I'm not keen on that."
I"There's nothing to worry about," I said.
"It's just a case of letting the blood out and stitching the layers of
the ear together. If we don't do this soon he'll suffer a lot of pain
and finish up with a caulifiower ear, and we don't want that because
he's a bonny little chap."
I meant it, too. Hamish was a proud-strutting, trim little dog. The
Scottish terrier is an attractive creature and I often lament that
there are so few around in these modern days.
After some hesitation Miss Wester man agreed and we fixed a date two
days from then. When she brough him in for the operation she deposited
Hamish in my arms, stroked his head again and again then looked from
Tristan to me and back agam.
"You'll take care of him, won't you," she said, and the jaw jutted and
the pale blue eyes stabbed. For a moment I felt like a little boy
caught in mischief, and I think my colleague felt the same because he
blew out his breath as the lady departed.
"By gum, Jim, that's a tough baby," he muttered.
"I wouldn't like to get on the wrong side of her."
I nodded.
"Yes, and she thinks all the world of this dog, so let's make a good
job of him.
After Siegfried's departure I lifted the ear which was now a turgid
cone and made an incision along the inner skin. As the pent up blood
gushed forth I caught it in an enamel dish, then I squeezed several big
clots through the wound.
"No wonder the poor little chap was in pain," I said softly.
"He'll feel a lot better when he wakes up."
I filled the cavity between skin and cartilage with sulphanilamide then
began to stitch the layers together, using a row of buttons. You had
to do something like this or the thing filled up again within a few
days. When I first began to operate on aural haematomata I used to
pack the interior with gauze then bandage the ear to the head. The
owners often made little granny-hats to try to keep the bandage in
place, but a frisky dog usually had it off very soon.
The buttons were a far better idea and kept the layers in close
contact, lessening the chance of distortion.
By lunchtime Hamish had come round from the anaesthetic and though
still slightly dopey he already seemed to be relieved that his bulging
ear had been deflated. Miss Wester man had gone away for the day and
was due to pick him up in the evening. The little dog, curled in his
basket, waited philosophically.
At tea time, Siegfried glanced across the table at his brother.
"I'm going oflf to Braw ton for a few hours, Tristan," he said.
"I want you to stay in the house and give Miss Wester man her dog when
she arrives. I don't know just when she'll come." He scooped out a
spoonful of jam.
"You can keep an eye on the patient and do a bit of studying, too. It's
about time you had a night at home."
Tristan nodded.
"Right, I'll do that." But I could see he wasn't enthusiastic.
/~d VeC tn a ~pin When Siegfried had driven away Tristan rubbed his
chin and gazed reflectively through the french window into the
darkening garden.
"This is distinctly awkward, Jim."
"Why ?"
"Well, Lydia has tonight off and I promised to see her." He whistled a
fe~v bars under his breath.
"It seems a pity to waste the opportunity just when things are building
up nicely. I've got a strong feeling that girl fancies me. In fact
she's nearly eating out of my hand."
I looked at him wonderingly.
"My God, I thought you'd want a bit of peace ' and quiet and an early
bed after last night!"
"Not me," he said.
"I'm raring to go again."
And indeed he looked fresh and fit, eyes sparkling, roses back in his
cheeks "Look, Jim," he went on.
"I don't suppose you could stick around with this dog?"
I shrugged.
"Sorry, Triss. I'm going back to see that cow of Ted Binns' - right at
the top of the Dale. I'll be away for nearly two hours."
For a few moments he was silent, then he raised a finger.
"I think I have the solution. It's quite simple, in fact it's perfect.
I'll bring Lydia in here."
"What! Into the house?"
"Yes, into this very room. I can put Hamish in his basket by the fire
and Lydia and I can occupy the sofa. Marvellous! What could be nicer
on a cold winter's night. Cheap, too."
"But Triss! How about Siegfried's lecture this morning? What if he
comes home early and catches the two of you here?"
Tristan lit a Woodbine and blew out an expansive cloud.
"Not a chance. You~ worry about such tiny things, Jim. He's al ways
late when he goes to Braw ton.
There's no problem at all."
"Well, please yourself," I said.
"But I think you're asking for trouble.
Anyway, shouldn't you be doing a bit of bacteriology? The exams are
get ting close."
He smiled seraphically through the smoke.
"Oh, I'll have a quick read through it all in good time."
I couldn't argue with him there. I al ways had to go over a thing
about six times before it finally sank in, but with his brain the quick
read would no doubt suffice. I went out on my call.
I got back about eight o'clock and as I opeped the front door my mind
was far from Tristan. Ted Binns's cow wasn't responding to my
treatment and I was beginning to wonder if I was on the right track.
When in doubt I liked to look the subject up and the books were on the
shelves in the sit ting room. I hurried along the passage and threw
open the door.
For a moment I stood there bewildered, trying to reorientate my
thoughts.
The sofa was drawn close to the bright fire, the atmosphere was heavy
witb cigarette smoke and the scent of perfume, but there was nobody to
be seen.
The most striking feature was the long curtain over the french window.
through it at great speed. I trotted over the carpet and peered out
into the dark gard~n.
From somewhere in the gloom I heard a scuffling noise, a thud and a
muffl6t cry, then there was a pitter-patter followed by a shrill
yelping. I stood for some time listening, then as my eyes grew
accustomed to the darkness I walked dowe the long path under the high
brick wall to the yard at the foot. The yard do~x was open as were the
big double doors into the back lane, but there was no d*~ Slowly I
retraced my steps to the warm oblong of light at the foot of the ~ old
house. I was about to close the french window when I heard a steaW,L
movement and an urgent whisper.
` iTI U OyLTI l~Y "Is that you, Jim?"
Triss! Where the hell have you sprung from?"
The young man tiptoed past me into the room and looked around him:
anxiously.
"It was you, then, not Siegfried?"
"Yes, I've just come in."
He flopped on the sofa and sunk his head in his hands.
"Oh damn! I was just Iying here a few minutes ago with Lydia in my
arms. At peace with the world.
Everything was wonderful. Then I heard the front door open."
"But you knew I was coming back' "Yes, and I'd have given you a shout,
but for some reason I thought,
"God help us, it's Siegfried!" It sounded like his step in the
passage."
"Then what happened?"
He churned his hair around with his fingers.
"Oh, I panicked. I was whispering lovely things into Lydia's ear, then
the next second I grabbed her, threw her off the couch and out of the
french window."
"I heard a thud . . ."
"Yes, that was Lydia falling into the rockery."
"And then some sort of high-pitched cries. . ."
He sighed and closed his eyes.
"That was Lydia in the rose bushes. She doesn't know the geography of
the place, poor lass."
"Gosh, Triss," I said.
"I'm really sorry. I shouldn't have burst in on you like that. I was
thinking of something else."
He rose wearily and put a hand on my shoulder.
"Not your fault, Jim, not your fault. You did warn me." He reached
for his cigarettes.
"I don't know how I'm going to face that girl again. I just chucked
her out into the lane and told her to beat it home with all speed. She
must think I'm stone balmy." He gave a hollow groan.
I tried to be cheerful.
"Oh, you'll get round her again. You'll have a laugh about it
later."
But he wasn't listening. His eyes, wide with horror, were staring past
me.
Slowly he raised a trembling finger and pointed towards the fireplace.
His mouth worked for a few seconds before he spoke.
"Christ, Jim, it's gone!" he gasped.
For a moment I thought the shock had deranged him.
"Gone...? What's gone ?"
"The bloody dog! He was there when I dashed outside. Right there!"
I looked down at the empty basket and a cold hand clutched at me.
"Oh no!
He must have got out through the open window. We're in trouble."
We rushed into the garden and searched in vain. We came back for
torches and searched once more, prowling around the yard and back lane,
shouting the little dog's name with diminishing hope.
After ten minutes we trailed back to the brightly lit room and stared
at each other.
Tristan was the first to voice our thoughts.
"What do we tell Miss Wester man when she calls?"
I shook my head. My mind fled from the thought of informing that lady
that we had lost her dog.
Just at that moment the front door bell pealed in the passage and
Tristan almost leaped in the air.
"Oh God!" he quavered.
"That'll be her now. Go and see her, Jim. Tell her it was my fault
anything you like but I daren't face her."
I squared my shoulders, marched over the long stretch of tiles and
opened the door It wasn't Miss Wester man, it was a well-built platinum
blonde and she glared at me angrily.
~/7U
"Where's Tristan?" she rasped in a voice which told me we had more
than one~' tough female to deal with tonight.
"Well, he's - er -."
smear' of soil on her cheek and her hair was sadly disarranged. I
followed her into the room where she stalked up to my friend.
"Look at my bloody stockings!" she burst out.
"They're ruined!"
Tristan peered nervously at the shapely legs.
"I'm sorry, Lydia. I'll get you another pair. Honestly, love, I
will."
"You'd better, you bugger!" she replied.
"And don't "love" me I've never been so insulted in my life. What did
you think you were playing at?"
"It was all a misunderstan ding. Let me explain . . ." Tristan
advanced on her with a brave attempt at a winning smile, but she backed
away.
"Keep your distance," she said frigidly.
"I've had enough of you for one night' She sw
ept out and Tristan leaned
his head against the mantelpiece.
"The end of a lovely friendship, Jim." Then he shook himself.
"But we've got to find that dog. Come on."
I set off in one direction and he went in the other. It was a moonless
night of impenetrable darkness and we were loo king for a jet black
dog. I think we both knew it was hopeless but we had to try.
In a little town like Darrow by you are soon out on the country roads
where there are no lights and as I stumbled around peering vainly over
invisible fields the utter pointlessness of the activity became more
and more obvious.
Occasionally I came within Tristan's orbit and heard his despairing
cries echoing over the empty landscape.
"Haamiish! Haamiish! Haamiish . . .!"
After half an hour we met at Skeldale House. Tristan faced me and as I
shook my head he seemed to shrink within himself. His chest heaved as
he fought for breath. Obviously he had been running while I had been
walking and I suppose that was natural enough. We were both in an
awkward situation but the final devastating blow would inevitably fall
on him.
"Well, we'd better get out on the road again," he gasped, and as he
spoke the front door bell rang again.
The colour drained rapidly from his face and he clutched my arm.
"That must be Miss Wester man this time. God almighty, she's coming
in!"
Rapid footsteps sounded in the passage and the sit ting room door
opened. But it wasn't Miss Wester man, it was Lydia again. She strode
over to the sofa, reached underneath and extracted her handbag. She
didn't say anything but merely shrivelled Tristan with a sidelong
glance before leaving.
"What a night!" he moaned, put ting a hand to his forehead.
"I can't stand much more of this."
Over the next hour we made innumerable sorties but we couldn't find
Hamish and nobody else seemed to have seen him. I came in to find
Tristan collapxd in an armchair. His mouth hung open and he showed
every sign of advanced exhaust ion. I shook my head and he shook his
then I heard the telephone.
I lifted the receiver, listened for a minute and turned to the young
man.
"I've got to go out, Triss. Mr Drew's old pony has colic again."
He reached out a hand from the depths of his chair.
"You're not going to leave me, Jim?"
"Sorry, I must. But I won't be long. It's only a mile away."
"But what if Miss Wester man comes?"
I shrugged
"You'll just have to ar.olo~ise Hamish is bound to turn up."
maybe in the morn in~.
l "You make it sound easy . . ." He ran a hand inside his collar.
"And and .... ~ ~ ~.
`:~ thing how about Siegfried? What if he arrives and asks about the
dog? What do I tell him?"
"Oh, I shouldn't worry about that." I replied airily.
"Just say you were too .
busy on the sofa with the Drovers' barmaid to bother about such things.
He'll understand."
But my attempt at jocularity fell flat. The young man fixed me with a
cold eye and ignited a quivering Woodbine.
"I believe I've told you this before, Jim, but there's a nasty cruel
streak in you."
Mr Drew's pony had almost recovered when I got there but I gave it a
mild sedative injection before turning for home. On the way back a
thought struck me and I took a road round the edge of the town to the
row of modern bungalows where Miss Wester man lived. I parked the car