“Yes, but wait a bit. Look at Napoleon and the colt.”
The terrier had jumped down from his chair and was growling, with bristling crest. Clarence, with ears laid back, had turned about and was shaking his head at the man on his knees, whose back was toward him.
The knot was refractory. Si Blodgett’s coat-tails fell apart, revealing a key-chain, one end of which disappeared in his hip pocket.
THE GUESTS ATE THEIR TURNIPS DECOROUSLY
“There!” whispered Galatea. “See that patch!”
“Wait!” said the Poet. “The psychological moment approaches—Ah!”
With a sudden rush the colt fell upon Si Blodgett’s rear, nipped savagely at the region of his hip pocket, and backed away triumphantly with his teeth closed on a chain from which a bunch of keys dangled. The man yelled in fright, then, seeing what was in the colt’s mouth, as Gabriel sprang forward to capture the aggressor, he jumped up, exclaiming:
“Never mind, Gabe; he’ll drop ’em in a minute.”
“Clarence!” said Galatea softly.