“Good old Captain Joe,” exclaimed Alex, patting the dog on the head.
The dog did not for a moment lose sight of a spot on the officer’s thigh, which seemed to invite attack.
“Is that your dog?” asked the policeman.
“Sure, that’s our dog,” answered Alex.
“And what did you say his name was?”
“Captain Joe.”
The officer released his hold on the boys and leaned against the patrol box. The police wagon was now in sight, racing down the street with a great jangling of bells, and the crowd around the officer began to thin. They had evidently seen that wagon before.
“Say, Mr. Officer,” Alex said, “why don’t you grab a couple of those boys? They are going to be witnesses against us, you know.”
The officer made no reply, but reached down and patted Captain Joe on the head, an action which the dog strongly resented.
“Did you say the dog ate a couple of wharf rats back there?” asked the officer, turning to the diminishing crowd.