"Why do you want to kill that helpless thing?"
"Why I want to kill the mongoose?" he repeated. "You better ask why the mongoose want to kill my chickens. No, that little mongoose will never trouble my chickens any more."
"Will you sell him to me?" she asked, earnestly.
"You want to buy a mongoose?" asked the boy, incredulously. "No, you can never tame him. He will only bite you. See:" (he put down the trap and pushed a stick into the wire cage, which the animal bit ferociously.) "I don't think you want to buy that mongoose."
"But I do want to buy him," she insisted. "I will give you a dollar for him."
(It is a strange fact that the terms of trade are generally spoken of in United States money in these islands, even where the only coins are European.)
"You will give me a dollar for the mongoose?" said Thorwald's bright voice.
"Yes, I will gladly give you a dollar for him."
"You may have him," said the child, hanging up the cage and receiving the money, evidently hardly able to credit his eyes. "But the mongoose is not worth one cent."
Taking the trap to the ground on the other side of the house, Miss May lost no time in releasing the little prisoner from his bondage, whereupon he vanished with all speed in the shrubbery. She gave Thorwald his dollar, and as she came to where I stood, there were tears in her bright eyes.