"Why, ya leetle—!"
"What's wrong?" the woman asked anxiously.
"The leetle—! He bit me!"
"Please be gentle!"
The hand came nearer and its steel-strong fingers enfolded Frosty. The black kitten raked until his paws were secured and then scissored with needle-sharp baby teeth. Spitting and snarling, he was pulled out of the tile and dropped into the gunny sack, along with his brothers. He made another mad lunge at Luke Trull but succeeded only in entangling his claws in the sacking. Furious, but unable to do anything about it at once, Frosty subsided.
The man held up his scratched hand. "The leetle—!"
The woman said, "I'm sorry!"
"Makes no mind," Luke Trull said. "I'll stop down to the drugstore an' git aught to put on it."
"I'll pay for it. Will two dollars extra be all right?"
"If ye've a mind, Miz Harris."