Todd?"

"Why dat young marster dat's jes' come up f'om Ann'rundel--got mo' money
den he kin th'ow 'way I yere."

"And they are eating their heads off, are they?--and he wants to swap
his dirty money for my--Yes--I know. They think they can buy anything
with a banknote. And its Floe and Dandy and Sue and Rupert, is it?
And I'm to sell them--I who have slept with them and ate with them
and hugged them a thousand times. Of course they eat their heads off.
Yes--don't say another word. Send them up one at a time--Floe first!"

The scene that followed always lingered in his mind. For days thereafter
he could not mention their name, even to Todd, without the tears
springing to his eyes.

Up the kitchen flight they tumbled--not one at a time, but all in a
scramble, bounding straight at him, slobbering all over his face and
hands, their paws scraping his clothes--each trying to climb into his
lap--big Gordon setters, all four. He swept them off and ranged them in
a row before his arm-chair with their noses flat to the carpet, their
brown agate eyes following his every movement.

"Todd says you eat too much, you damned rascals!" he cried in enforced
gayety, leaning forward, shaking his finger in their faces. "What the
devil do you mean, coming into a gentleman's private apartments and
eating him out of house and home!--and that's what you're doing.
I'm going to sell you!--do you hear that?--sell you to some stingy
curmudgeon who'll starve you to death, and that's what you deserve!...
Come here, Floe--you dear old doggie, you--nice Floe!... Here,
Dandy--Rupert--Sue!" They were all in his arms, their cold noses
snuggled under his warm chin. But this time he didn't care what they
did to his clothes--nor what he did to them. He was alone; Todd had
gone down to the kitchen--only he and the four companions so dear to his
heart. "Come here, you imp of the devil," he continued, rubbing Floe's
ears--he loved her best--pinching her nose until her teeth showed;
patting her flanks, crooning over her as a woman would over a child,
talking to himself all the time. "I wonder if Floyd will be good to
them! If I thought he wouldn't I'd rather starve than--No--I reckon it's
all right--he's got plenty of room and plenty of people to look
after them." Then he rose from his chair and drew his hand across
his forehead. "Got to sell my dogs, eh? Turned traitor, have you, Mr.
Temple, and gone back on your best friends? By God! I wonder what will
c