“It’s me—Benny Foster.”
“Hello, Benny, how is young Foster? It is Bradford who is speaking.”
“Fluffy is very well, thank you. All the crew, and even the cook, are outside, sir. Shall I call any one?”
“Perhaps it will be as well if I speak with you first, and then we’ll have a word with the keeper. Heard anything from your uncle?”
“No, sir, and I hope I sha’n’t. Say, Mr. Bradford, would you go to him if you were in my place and had such a good home as this, where Fluffy can do almost whatever he wants to? You know some folks think a dog ain’t nice to come into the house, and I don’t know what the poor little man would do if he was sent into the shed or a barn to sleep.”
“So you’re having it very comfortable out there, eh?”
“Indeed we are, Mr. Bradford. Maje has got through bothering Fluff, and the men are as kind to me as if we was own folks. I’d feel awful bad to go away; but that’s what I’ll have to do if Andrew Foster says I must live with him.”
“Ain’t thinking of running off are you, Benny?”
“That’s just what Fluff and I have made up our minds to do, sir, though I wouldn’t like for you to tell Mr. Downey. We’ll never go off with folks we don’t know.”
“Your uncle might give you a much better home than you have now, Benny.”