The animal growled intelligently, and sitting down a yard or two in front of the cook watched him with much interest.
“I’m sure I’m very sorry,” muttered the cook. “Don’t go away and leave me with this dog, sir.”
“He won’t touch you unless you move,” said the old man.
The cook’s head swam; he felt vaguely round for a subtle compliment. “I’d rather you stayed,” he quavered, “I would indeed. I don’t know any man I’ve took a greater fancy to at first sight.”
“I don’t want any of your confounded insolence,” said the other sternly. “Watch him, Roger.”
Roger growled with all the cheerfulness of a dog who had found a job which suited him, and his owner, after again warning the cook of what would happen if he moved out of the chair, left the room, shutting the door as he went. The cook heard the front door close behind him, and then all was silence, except for the strong breathing of Roger.
For some time the man and dog sat eyeing each other in silence, then the former, moistening his dry lips with his tongue, gave a conciliatory chirrup. Roger responded with a deep growl, and, rising to his feet, yawned expressively.
“Poor Roger!” said the cook in trembling accents, “poor old Rogy-wogy! Good old dog!”
The good old dog came a little nearer and closely inspected the cook’s legs, which were knocking together with fright.
“Cats!” said the cook, pointing to the door as an idea occurred to him. “S-cat! Seize ’em, dog! seize ’em!”