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"
Right
.
"
They
nodded
in
righteous
agreement
and
strode
off
towards
the
Mended
Drum
,
except
for
the
intellectual
,
who
sidled
uneasily
back
to
Vimes
.
"
What
sort
of
dog
?
"
he
said
.
"
What
?
"
said
Vimes
.
"
I
said
,
what
sort
of
dog
?
"
"
A
small
wire
-
haired
terrier
,
I
think
,
"
said
Vimes
.
The
hunter
thought
about
this
for
some
time
.
"
Nah
,
"
he
said
eventually
,
and
hurried
off
after
the
others
.
"
He
’
s
got
an
aunt
in
Pseudopolis
,
I
believe
,
"
Vimes
called
after
him
.
There
was
no
response
.
The
captain
of
the
Watch
shrugged
,
and
carried
on
through
the
throng
to
the
Patrician
’
s
palace
.
.
.
