"Exactly. Do you know how many starving dogs and cats I have found
this morning?" He took a note-book out of his pocket and glanced at
it. "Forty-eight. Forty-eight, madam! And ninety-three cats! I have
found them marooned in trees, clinging to fences, floating on barrels,
and I have found them in comfortable houses where there was no excuse
for their neglect. Well, I must be moving on. I have the report of a
cat with a new litter in the loft of a stable near here."
He wiped his hands carefully on a fresh paper napkin, of which also
a heap rested on one of the seats of the boat, and picked up an oar,
smiling benevolently at Peter. Then, suddenly, he bent over and looked
at the stained rope end, tied to the stair-rail.
"What's that?" he said.
"That's what I'm going to find out," I replied. I glanced up at the
Ladleys' door, but it was closed.
The little man dropped his oar, and fumbling in his pockets, pulled
out a small magnifying-glass. He bent over, holding to the rail, and
inspected the stains with the glass.
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