‘What sort of a dog was it?’
Dog described; the chain round the neck settled it.
He scowled at her darkly.
‘Now, look here,’ he said; ‘you’ve allowed gamblin’ in this bar—your boss has. You’ve got no right to let spielers gamble away a man’s dog. Is a customer to lose his dog every time he has a doze to suit your boss? I’ll go straight across to the police camp and put you away, and I don’t care if you lose your licence. I ain’t goin’ to lose my dog. I wouldn’ter taken a ten-pound note for that blanky dog! I——’
She was filling a pewter hastily.
‘Here! for God’s sake have a drink an’ stop yer row.’
He drank with satisfaction. Then he hung on the bar with one elbow and scowled out the door.
‘Which blanky way did them chaps go?’ he growled.
‘The one that took the dog went towards Tinned Dog.’
‘And I’ll haveter go all the blanky way back after him, and most likely lose me shed! Here!’ jerking the empty pewter across the bar, ‘fill that up again; I’m narked properly, I am, and I’ll take twenty-four blanky hours to cool down now. I wouldn’ter lost that dog for twenty quid.’