“Lie yourself!”
“Gimme that dog!”
“It's my dog!”
“Where'd ye git it?” sneered the other, making clutches at the puppy.
“My papa bought him for me in New York.”
“Hm! All the way your father could git a dog like that is to steal him. Your father 'ain't got no money. You stole him. You steal jest like your father. Gimme the dog.”
The claimant boy laid such insistent hands on the puppy, and Eddy so resisted, that the little animal yelped loudly.
Carroll stepped up. His lips were ashy. This last idiotic episode was unnerving him more than all that had gone before. “Give that boy his dog,” he commanded Eddy, sternly.
Eddy clung more tightly to the little dog, and began to whimper. “But, papa—”
“Do as I tell you.”