He even took the little beast up in his arms, and the next thing he knew it was trying to lick his face to show its gratitude.
From the boys around the corner a series of loud jeers broke forth. They even began to throw stones and such things toward the two scouts, as though resenting this interference with their “fun.”
Billy, although a scout, could get angry at times, and he was apt to forget some of the rules to which he had agreed to conform at the time he joined the patrol.
“For two cents,” he said angrily, when a stone bounded up and struck him on the shin, “I’d be willing to go back there and offer to lick the coward who threw that rock.”
“I don’t believe that would mend matters any,” Hugh remarked, as he picked up the rusty old tin pan and tossed it carefully into one of the scrap cans that happened to stand close by. “There are three of them there besides Lige, and we’d only get into a fuss that might reflect on the scouts. We’re in uniform, remember. Let it pass; you can afford to. The dog thanks you anyhow; just see him frisk about as though he might be trying to jump out of his skin with gratitude for a kind act and a pleasant word. It would be hard to chase him away from you now, Billy. What’ll you call him—Bruno, as your other dog was named?”
“Well, that would hardly do for such a shrimp. Frisk sounds better to me. Hey, how do you like that for a name, eh, Frisk?” And he snapped his fingers at the little animal that was leaping at his side and barking joyously, something perhaps that he had seldom dared to do for fear of attracting attention and having a brick shied at him for his temerity.
“Looks to me as if any name would answer with him, if only there was a square meal tagged on at the end of it,” laughed Hugh. “His sides seem to be caving in. I guess he hasn’t found very fat pickings lately in skirmishing around town, though you’d think differently from the trash that’s lying everywhere.”
“Here’s our butcher’s place, so wait for me a minute while I beg some scraps of meat for my new dog. I’d like to let him know he’s met a real friend at last. Look at his eyes, will you, Hugh? Did you ever see such an appealing pair in any common dog? I’m glad I ran across Frisk, for I’m going to like him first rate.”
“The affection is mutual, then,” said Hugh, as Billy darted past the screen door of the butcher shop, and the cur, as though divining what was in the wind, sniffed at the barrier, whimpered, and wagged his tail expectantly while waiting for his new master to appear again.
When Billy came forth he had a paper in his hand, from which he took some scraps of meat and held them for the dog to jump after. It was comical to see the antics of the little animal. He tried to wag his tail so furiously between leaps that it almost seemed as though he must shake it off.