[CHAPTER XXIV.]
BOXER TO THE RESCUE.
The second ruffian was ejected, and Frank and the talking dog were regarded with unbounded admiration by every one present.
"I neffer haf seen Shentle Pob done upness pefore," remarked Schlitzenheimer. "He vos a pad man."
"You bettee!" put in Sing Lee, who crept forth from behind a barrel, where he had taken refuge during the encounter. "Him velly bad. Him shootee, stabbee, killee."
"An' so he will," nodded Pat O'Grady, seeming quite concerned. "It's me opinion he wur lookin' fer throuble whin he came here."
"Well, he found it," smiled Merry.
"That's what!" said Boxer, wagging his tail and looking up at Frank knowingly. "But he tasted disagreeable. You don't suppose it will make me sick, do you?"
Frank stooped and patted the dog's head.