“Take your cat away, I tell you,” shouted Oddfellow, “take it away. I wouldn’t destroy it for a thousand pounds!”
“You won’t, oh?”
“Put an end to you with pleasure!”
“Yes?”
“Make you a present of a dose of poison whenever you like to come and take it!”
“Yes?”
“I will!”
Franks went away with his tom-cat.
“O ... my ... lord!” ejaculated the chemist, that being his favourite evocation; “I’ll do no more of this cat-and-dog business. I shall not do any more; no, I shall not. I do not like it at all.”
But in the afternoon his assistant, who had not been informed of this resolve, accepted two more victims for the lethal chamber, another tom-cat and a collie dog.