“The little dog you have just taken,” he cried, “is not a stray dog. He belongs ….”
“Stand out of my way,” shouted the man savagely, “or I will bring my whip down on your head!” and he brandished a heavy whip dangerously near the boy.
Aleko jumped aside only just in time, and the cart went rattling down the steep incline with a clatter of its iron laths which drowned the barking of its occupants.
Instinctively Aleko ran back to the square.
Anneza was gone.
“Do you know,” he asked of a woman who was weighing some purple figs at the door of a fruit shop, “where the serving maid has gone who was here just now?”
“Anneza, from the Spinotti’s, you mean?” answered the woman. “The ‘boya’ took her dog away in his cart, and she has run back to the house to tell her master.”
“By the time she finds him,” said Aleko, “it will be too late.” And he tore across the square and down the street leading to Academy Road. A street car was passing. He leaped on the platform dragging his box after him. The conductor looked at him angrily.
“Do you not know that you cannot sell your newspapers while the car is in motion?”
“I am not selling anything,” answered Aleko with dignity; “I am riding.” And he produced ten lepta from a pocket inside his tunic.