“I’ve called to know if you could assist me in finding a friend who, I fear, has lost his way,” I replied.
The official did not answer me, but reached down another large book.
“What’s his name?” he inquired gruffly.
“His name? Oh—er—his name is—er—that is to say he is the—” I had not the least idea what the Wallypug’s name really was, so I couldn’t very well say.
“What’s his name?” shouted the official. “I’ll ask you what he is presently.”
“Well, I’m very sorry, but I really do not know his name.”
The man glanced at me very suspiciously.
“You said he was a friend of yours—it’s a very odd thing that you don’t know his name. What is he?”
“He’s a—a—Wallypug,” I stammered. “That is to say he—er—”
“Wallypug!” exclaimed the man contemptuously. “What’s that?”