"Monsieur," I said, "I am not a dealer in dogs: he was given to me, I will give him to you."
"Well, but he has cost you his keep."
"Oh, the keep of a dog does not come to much."
"Never mind; if is but fair I should pay for his food.... How long have you had him?"
"Nearly two years."
"Then I owe you for his food for two years."
Cartier continued to nudge my elbow. And it occurred to me that the dog's keep would help admirably to pay for the master's clothes.
"Very well," said I, "we will settle it so: you shall pay me for his keep."
"Reckon it up."
"What do you think of fifty francs per year?"