I grinned at him.
The shopman took me out and gave me to the man, and the man held me up close to his face and looked into my eyes and smiled at me, and I grinned at him. I liked him, though he had a queer look.
“Yes, he is the one,” said the stranger. “We will take him. Have you a basket in which to carry him?”
The shopman had. It was a queer basket. I had never seen one like it before. It was just big enough to hold me, and it had a cover, and a window at one end so I could look out.
The stranger put me in it and fastened the lid.
He let the basket stand on the floor while he paid the shopman, and then he picked it up and started off. I should have liked to say good-bye to Fido, but I had no chance. I looked out of the window and I could see him up in the cage looking after me, but he couldn’t see me very well.
It was a long time before we ever saw each other again, and when we did it was in the queerest way. But that comes later in my story.