“I’ll do it!” he said, heroically, yielding the now drowsy object of barter to his cousin’s grasp. A slight misgiving as he did so died when he saw how contentedly the creature curled herself down upon Melville’s luxurious cushions.
“She looks as if she liked you, a’ready,” said the little boy.
“Of course she does. She is a self-denying animal, who is glad to die for science’s sake.”
Fritz did wish that Melville would not use that unpleasant word “die” so frequently. Whenever he heard it he didn’t like to look at “Marm Puss.” Seeing this, the elder boy hastened matters.
“Go to that closet there. Open the door, and, on the right-hand corner of the lowest shelf, you will see a big bottle with a glass stopper. A blue bottle.—Find it?”
“Yep.”
“Bring it, then; and hurry up. First, go and lock both doors.”
“What for?”
“See here, youngster, you quit that ‘what for’ business. I haven’t time to answer any more questions, and now you have sold yourself to me you can’t go back on your word. All you’ve got to do is to obey. I’ll take all the responsibility. You lock those doors, so that the meddling girls can’t come in. Girls always want to poke their noses into boys’ business, you know.”
It gratified Fritzy to think that he was “boys,” having been accustomed to consider himself just “little Fritz.” He went obediently to the two doors, and fastened each. Then the windows; for Melville was determined to make sure of no interruption.