return in about three-quarters of an hour with an acknowledgment.
If, on the other hand, he cannot gain admission, he may wait for
any length of time," replied his master.

Bets were exchanged among the company--some supported the dog's
chances of success, while others were against him.

The evening wore away; the allotted time was exceeded, and a whole
hour had passed, but no dog had returned. Fresh bets were made, but
the odds were against the dog. His master was still hopeful....
"I must tell you," said Mr. Prideaux, "that Turk frequently
carries notes for me, and as he knows the house well, he certainly
will not make a mistake; perhaps my friend may be dining out,
in which case Turk will probably wait for a longer time"....
Two hours passed ... the storm was raging. Mr. Prideaux
himself went to the front door, which flew open before a fierce
gust the instant that the lock was turned. The clouds were
rushing past a moon but faintly visible at short intervals,
and the gutters were clogged with masses of half-melted snow.
"Poor Turk!" muttered his master, "this is indeed a wretched night
for you.... Perhaps they have kept you in the warm kitchen,
and will not allow you to return in such fearful weather."

When Mr. Prideaux returned to his guests he could not conceal his
disappointment. "Ha!" exclaimed one who had betted against the dog,
"I never doubted his sagacity. With a guinea in his mouth, he has
probably gone into some house of entertainment where dogs are
supplied with dinner and a warm bed, instead of shivering in a
winter's gale!"