“And I suppose that is an exclusive dog. He doesn't like everybody going right up to him. Say, I guess he is a pretty smart dog, but I guess I should rather be his master than anybody else. He never bit you, did he?”
“No.”
“I should think he would be an awful nice watch-dog,” said Eddy.
Anderson bound the arm tightly and smoothly with a bandage. When the arm was finally dressed the jacket-sleeve could go over it, much to Eddy's satisfaction.
“Say, this jacket ain't paid for,” he said. “Isn't it lucky that the man where Amy bought it didn't know we didn't have much money to pay for things lately and trusted us. If I had on my old jacket, the sleeves were so short and tight, because I had outgrown it, you know, I'd been hurt a good deal worse, and it was lucky we hadn't paid the Chinaman, too. It was real— What do you call it?”
“I don't know what you mean?” said Anderson, smiling.
“It was real— Oh, shucks! you know. What is it folks say when they don't go on a railroad train, and there's an accident, and everybody that did go is killed. You know.”
“Oh, providential?”
“Yes, it was real providential.”
“Suppose we go down.”