"'I am in possession of the dog and you merely claim possession.'"
"Scrub him thoroughly," she suggested, pouring heaping handfuls of hot, silvery sand over the little creature.
Gray did likewise, and together they rubbed and scrubbed and rolled the puppy about until the dog began to roll on his back all by himself, twisting and wriggling and waving his big, padded paws.
"What he wants is water," asserted Gray, unstrapping his haversack and bottle. From the one he produced an aluminum pannikin; from the other he filled it with water. The puppy drank it all while Gray and the brown-eyed girl looked on intently.
Then Gray produced some beef sandwiches, and the famished little creature leaped and whirled and danced as Gray fed him cautiously, bit by bit.
"Do you think that is perfectly fair?" asked the girl gravely.
"Fair?" repeated Gray guiltily.
"Yes. Who first feeds a strange dog is recognised as the reigning authority."