"A pint of beer, mister!" he cried, and pretended to fumble for his money, when the landlord placed the tankard on the bar counter.
The dog looked up into his face.
"Here, mister," said the dog, "ain't I going to get one?"
The landlord started.
"That's a remarkable animal," he said with staring eyes.
"Pretty smart," said the ventriloquist indifferently.
"I'll—I'll buy that dog," said the landlord eagerly; "I'll give you five pounds for him."
The ventriloquist considered for a while.
"All right," he said at length, "I hate to part with an old friend like him, but I must live, and I have no money."
The landlord counted out the five sovereigns, and the ventriloquist drank up his beer and made for the door.