"Take her out of the room. Put her in the hall; tie her up."

"What's the idea?"

"Merely this; I am going to examine the room. No, I am not afraid.
I'll be mighty glad if it does catch me. Anything so long as I get
results."

But it did us no good. We examined the room many times that night;
both of us. In the end there was nothing, only the weirdness and
uncertainty and the magnetic undercurrent which we could feel, but
could not fathom. When we called in the dog she stepped to the
portieres and commenced her vigil. She crouched slightly behind
the curtains, alert, ready, waiting, at her post of honour. From
that moment she never left the spot except under compulsion. We
could hear her at all times of the night; the low growl, the
snarl, the defiance.

But there was a great deal more that we were to learn from the
dog. It was Jerome who first called my attention. A small fact at
the beginning; but of a strange sequence. This time it was the
ring. Queen had the habit that is common to most dogs; she would
lick my hand to show her affection. It was nothing in itself; but
for one fact--she always chose the left hand. It was the detective
who first noticed it. Always and every opportunity she would lick
the jewel. We made a little test to try her. I would remove the
ring from one hand to the other; then hold it behind me. She would
follow.

It was a strange fact; but of course not inexplicable. A scent or