“Tell me what it is,” I said, “and I will help you make sure of ft.”
“Thank you,” he said, “but I will attend to it,” and with that he got on his wagon and drove off. He returned in about an hour.
“I came back,” he said, “not because my legal duty compels me, but because I knew you would be anxious. If I owned a dog like that, I would be anxious, too. I can't take that dog.”
“Why not?” we all asked.
“Because,” he said, “I have been down to the city hall, and I have looked up the records, and I find that the streets of this addition to the city have not been accepted by the city. The titles to the property are so made out that until the city legally accepts the streets, each property owner owns to the middle of the street fronting his property. If you will step out and look, you will see that the dog is on your own property.”
“If that is all,” I said, “I will move the stake. I will put him on the other side of the street.”
“If you would like him any better there,” said the dog-catcher, “you can move him, but it would make no difference to me. Then he would be on the private property of the man who owns the property across the street.”