"Ah, lad, I 'm not sure that you are not right," answered Moore, and there was no laughter in his voice.
Chapter Fourteen
SIR PERCIVAL LOVELACE IS FAVORED BY FORTUNE
Moore lost no time before setting out to make a little payment on account to all of his creditors residing in the neighborhood, so Buster, left to his own devices, extended a broomstick towards Lord Castlereagh in a manner tempting in the extreme. Being of a congenial and obliging disposition, the bulldog secured a firm grip and then endeavored to wrest it from his master's grasp. A rough and tumble tug-of-war ensued, the finish being an aerial performance by Lord Castlereagh, who made a flying trip around Buster as that worthy youth, exerting his muscle to the utmost, swung stick, dog and all in a circle clear of the floor. Having exhausted himself without accomplishing the release of the stick from the bulldog's jaws, Buster had a brilliant inspiration and outraged precedent by washing his face and hands, it being his custom to perform ablutions only on arising in the morning unless detected and otherwise admonished by his master. Before he had finished drying himself a warning growl from his four-legged playfellow gave notice that some one was approaching.
Buster opened the door in answer to a loud knock and found himself confronted by two elegantly attired gentlemen, who willingly entered the room in response to his hospitable greeting.
"Hullo," said Sir Percival, coolly eying Buster through his glass with an amused smile. "Who are you?"
Buster was distinctly pleased with the baronet. Sir Percival's stalwart form was clad in the latest fashion, which set off his handsome person to great advantage, but in spite of his distinguished appearance, his manner in addressing the boy was so genuinely affable and good-natured that it placed them in sympathy at once. Where Buster liked he was prone to admire eventually; when he both liked and admired at first sight he became like clay in the potter's hands.
"Who am Hi, sir?" repeated he, "Why Hi 'me the Reverend Doctor Buster of Hall Souls's Chapel."
"Indeed?" observed Sir Percival. "Delighted to make your acquaintance, Doctor."
"We want none of your slack," growled the baronet's companion.