“Sartain as sartain. That’s a ferret as’ll do anybody credit.”
“But will it hunt rabbits up into holes, and stop sucking their blood?”
“Oh, I don’t know nothing about rabbids,” said Magglin. “It won’t do so with me; ’tis yours then.”
“Will it bite?” I asked.
“Rats, sir. You try him, he’s as tame as a kitten. But I must get back to my work. Where’ll you have it?”
“I want it up in my box—the old corn-bin up in the loft, Magg. Will you take it and put it in if I give you the key?”
“Course I will, sir.”
“And bring me back the key?”
“Course I will, sir.”
“I don’t like to take it myself, because one of the fellows might see me, and they’d want to know what I’d got.”