“Of course. Since it had happened that I was there, it was for the good luck of all the poor creatures. The boys who were there helped me; we held open the door at the top of the cage; the big dogs jumped out alone, and we lifted the little ones. I took Solon, and if the ‘boya’ wants the rest again, he will have another day’s run for them!”
“And what became of the man?”
“Do I know?” said Aleko with sublime indifference.
Then the banker came a step nearer to Aleko.
“If I were to speak till to-morrow, my boy, I could not tell you how indebted I am to you; and I am terribly ashamed to think that you, whom I accused of being a thief, and ill treated only last night, should have saved my dog for me to-day.”
“It was not for you that I did it,” answered the boy shortly, “it was the dog for whom I was sorry.”
“I understand that. Still you knew that he was mine, and another boy might have let the dog be killed, to be revenged on me.”
“What you did,” said Aleko, averting his eyes, “was not the dog’s fault. Why should he suffer?”
“You have saved me also from great suffering; greater, perhaps, than the dog’s would have been. I thank you with all my heart, also I … I ask your forgiveness.” And he held out his hand.
Aleko frowned. At that moment for some inexplicable reason, Solon sat up on his hind legs and began energetically sawing the air with his forepaws as though pleading for his master.