"You want to p'ison the dog."
Mr. Craven started. How had his secret leaked out?
"What do you mean?"
"Mane! I mane that I saw you lavin' the p'isoned mate for the dog three days agone, and if it hadn't been for me he'd have eaten it, and the poor creetur would be stiff in death."
"He did eat it. I saw him," said Mr. Craven, hastily.
"No, he didn't. It wasn't the same mate!" said Katy, triumphantly.
"What was it, then?"
"It was a piece I cut off and carried out to him," said Katy. "The other I wrapped up in a piece of paper, and buried it in the field."
Mr. Craven's eyes were opened. Pompey's cast-iron constitution was explained. After all, he was not that natural phenomenon which Mr. Craven had supposed him to be. But he was angry at Katy's interference no less.