"Is a bloodhound," said Albert Edward. "If you don't believe me step inside and behave like raw rump steak for a moment."
Algy pointed his cane. "And that creature industriously delousing itself? That's a wolf, of course?"
"Its wolfery is only skin-deep," said I. "A grey gander all but annihilated it yesterday. In my opinion it's a sheep in wolf's clothing."
Algy wagged his cane, indicating the remaining two couples.
"And these? What breed would you call them?"
Albert Edward grunted. "You could call them any breed you like and be partly right. We've named them 'The Maconochies,' which, being interpreted, meaneth a little of everything."
"And how many hares have you killed?" Algy inquired.
"We haven't exactly killed any as yet," said I, "but we've put the breeze up 'em; their moral is very low."
"Well, my bold Nimrods," said Algy, "I'm sorry to say the game is up."
"What do you mean by 'game'?" objected Albert Edward. "I've told you before that this is a serious attempt to avert a plague of rodents. Why, in Australia I've seen——"