“If you’ll let us see the dog—”
“Aha!” said the professor. “I see! A blackmailing scheme! You wish to see my dog. You will then cause this child to identify the dog as the one which bit him, in order that you may collect damages. A ve-ry pret-ty little scheme, I must admit!”
Anderson had had a singularly trying day, and he was very weary of this quest, anyhow.
“Nothing of the sort!” he said curtly. “If you’ll be good enough to let us see your dog—or if you’ll give me your assurance that the animal is perfectly healthy—”
“Don’t you give him a penny, Joseph!” cried a quavering female voice from the dark depths of the hall.
The professor laughed ironically.
“Ve-ry pret-ty!” he repeated. “But you may as well understand, once and for all, that I absolutely refuse to allow you to see my dog, or to give you any assurance of any kind whatsoever.”
And nothing could move him. Mr. Anderson argued with him with as much tact and politeness as he could manage just at that time, but in vain.
“See here!” he said at last. “Let me see the dog, and if it’s the right one, I’ll buy it. Now will you believe—”
But the professor would not believe until Anderson had signed a document which he drew up, solemnly promising that, if the dog were identified by Leroy as the dog which had bitten him, he, Winchell Anderson, would purchase the said dog for the sum of twenty-five dollars.