“You mean I did,” corrected Jonesie. “You’d have gone and taken him at ten dollars if you’d had your way.”
“That’s right,” agreed Pinky humbly. “When he looked at me that way——”
“Perkins?”
“No, the dog, you silly chump! Say, what’ll we call him?”
“Spot?” asked Jonesie doubtfully. Pinky shook his head.
“Every dog is named Spot—or Teddy. He’s too good a dog to have a name like that. Let’s think up something decent.”
For the rest of the way there was silence.
A quarter of an hour later Mr. Broadley interrupted Sparrow Bowles with upraised hand.
“That’s fairly correct, Bowles,” he said. “But pardon me a moment. Trainor!”
“Yes, sir?”