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Herriot.'

  "No,' I said, hanging the cage with the new bird up in its place by the

  window. "I think you'll find all is well now.'

  It was months before I had the courage to put my hand into a budgie's

  cage again. In fact to this day I prefer it if the owners will lift the

  birds out for me. People look at me strangely when I ask them to do

  this; I believe they think I am scared the little things might bite me.

  It was a long time, too, before I dared go back to Mrs Tompkins but I

  was driving down Jasmine Terrace one day and on an impulse I stopped

  outside Number 14.

  The old lady herself came to the door.

  "How .. .' I said. "How is .. . er .. .?'

  She peered at me closely for a moment then laughed. "Oh I see who it is

  now. You mean Peter, don't you, Mr Herriot. Oh 'e's just grand. Come in

  and see 'im'

  In the little room the cage still hung by the window and Peter the

  Second took a quick look at me then put on a little act for my benefit;

  he hopped around the bars of the cage, ran up and down his ladder and

  rang his little bell a couple of times before returning to his perch.

  His mistress reached up, tapped the metal and looked lovingly at him.

  "You know, you wouldn't believe it,' she said. "He's like a different

  bird.'

  I swallowed. "Is that so? In what way?'

  "Well he's so active now. Lively as can be. You know 'e chatters to me

  all day long. It's wonderful what cutting' a beak can do.'

  Chapter Six.

  This was one for Granville Bennett. I liked a bit of small animal

  surgery and was gradually doing more as time went on but this one

  frightened me. A twelve-year-old spaniel bitch in the last stages of

  pyometritis, pus dripping from her vulva on to the surgery table,

  temperature a hundred and four, panting, trembling, and, as I held my

  stethoscope against her chest I could hear the classical signs of

  valvular insufficiency. A dicky heart was just what I needed on top of

  everything else.

  "Drinking a lot of water, is she?' I asked.

  Old Mrs Barker twisted the strings of her shopping bag anxiously. "Aye,

  she never seems to be away from the water bowl. But she won't eat -

  hasn't had a bite for the last four days.'

  "Well I don't know,' I took off my stethoscope and stuffed it in my

  pocket. You should have brought her in long ago. She must have been ill

  for weeks.'

  "Not rightly ill, but a bit off it. I thought there was nothing to worry

  about as long as she was eating.'

  I didn't say anything for a few moments. I had no desire to upset the

  old girl but she had to be told.

  "I'm afraid this is rather serious, Mrs Barker. The condition has been

  building up for a long time. It's in her womb, you see, a bad infection,

  and the only cure is an operation.'

  "Well will you do it, please?' The old lady's lips quivered.

  I came round the table and put my hand on her shoulder.

  "I'd like to, but there are snags. She's in poor shape and twelve years

  old. Really a poor operation risk. I'd like to take her through to the

  Veterinary Hospital at Hartington and let Mr Bennett operate on her.'

  "All right,' she said, nodding eagerly. "I don't care what it costs.'

  "Oh we'll keep it down as much as possible.' I walked along the passage

  with her and showed her out of the door. "Leave her with me I'll look

  after her, don't worry. What's her name, by the way?'

  "Dinah,' she replied huskily, still peering past me down the passage.

  I went through and lifted the phone. Thirty years ago country

  practitioners had to turn to the small animal experts when anything

  unusual cropped up in that line. It is different nowadays when our

  practices are more mixed. In Darrowby now we have the staff and

  equipment to tackle any type of small animal surgery but it was

  different then. I had heard it said that sooner or later every large

  animal man had to scream for help from Granville Bennett and now it was

  my turn.

  "Hello, is that Mr Bennett?'

  "It is indeed.' A big voice, friendly, full of give.

  "Herriot here. I'm with Farnon in Darrowby.'

  "Of course! Heard of you, laddie, heard of you.'

  "Oh .. . er .. . thanks. Look, I've got a bit of a sticky job here. I

  wonder if you'd take it on for me.'

  "Delighted, laddie, what is it?'

  ' A real stinking pyo.'

  "Oh lovely!'

  "The bitch is twelve years old.'

  "Splendid!'

  "And toxic as hell.'

  "Excellent!'

  "And one of the worst hearts I've heard for a long time.'

  "Fine, fine! When are you coming through?'

  "This evening, if it's O.K. with you. About eight.'

  "Couldn't be better, laddie. See you.'

  Hartington was a fair-sized town - about 2(~0,000 inhabitants - but as I

  drove into the centre the traffic had thinned and only a few cars rolled

  past the rows of shop fronts. I hoped my twenty-five mile journey had

  been worth it. Dinah, stretched out on a blanket in the back looked as

  if she didn't care either way. I glanced behind me at the head drooping

  over the edge of the seat, at the white muzzle and the cataracts in her

  eyes gleaming palely in the light from the dash. She looked so old.

  Maybe I was wasting my time, placing too much faith in this man's

  reputation.

  There was do doubt Granville Bennett had become something of a legend in

  northern England. In those days when specialisation was almost unknown

  he had gone all out for small animal work - never looked at farm stock -

  and had set a new standard by the modern procedures in his animal

  hospital which was run as nearly as possible on human lines. It was, in

  fact, fashionable for veterinary surgeons of that era to belittle dog

  and cat work; a lot of the older men who had spent their lives among the

  teeming thousands of draught horses in city and agriculture would

  sneer,"Oh I've no time to bother with those damn things.' Bennet had

  gone dead in the opposite direction.

  I had never met him but I knew he was a young man in his early thirties.

  I had heard a lot about his skill, his business acumen, and about his

  reputation as a l~on viveur. He was, they said, a dedicated devotee of

  the work-hardplay- hard school.

  The Veterinary Hospital was a long low building near the top of a busy

  street. I drove into a yard and knocked at a door in the corner. I was

  looking with some awe at a gleaming Bentley dwarfing my own battered

  little Austin when the door was opened by a pretty receptionist.

  "Good evening,' she murmured with a dazzling smile which I thought must

  be worth another half crown on the bill for a start. "Do come in, Mr

  Bennett is expecting you.'

  I was shown into a waiting room with magazines and flowers on a corner

  table and many impressive photographs of dogs and cats on the walls

  taken, I learned later, by the principal himself. I was looking closely

  at a superb study of two white poodles when I heard a footstep behind

  me. I turned and had my first view of Granville Bennett.

  He seemed to fill the room. Not over tall b