The great brute, with a sidewise growl and glare at the butler that made him sweat with fright, picked up the bone and, at a sign from his master, laid it at the feet of Tess.
"Show your manners!"
Once more he waved his stern exactly once.
"Give it to him, ma'am."
Tess touched the bone with her foot, and the dog took it away, scaring
Chamu along the veranda in front of him.
"Why don't you ever call him by name, Tom?"
"Bad for him, ma'am. When I say, 'Here, you!' or whistle, he obeys quick as lightning. But if I say, 'Trotters!' which his name is, he knows he's got to do his own thinking, and keeps his distance till he's sure what's wanted. A dog's like an enlisted man, ma'am; ought to be taught to jump at the word of command and never think for himself until you call him out of the ranks by name. Trotters understands me perfectly."
"Speaking of names," said Tess, "I'd like to introduce you to my guest,
Tom, but I'm afraid—"
"You may call me Gunga Singh," said a quiet voice full of amusement, and Tom Tripe started. He turned about in his chair and for the first time looked the third member of the party in the face.
"Hoity-toity! Well, I'm jiggered! Dash my drink and dinner, it's the princess!"