"It seems to me that you all have a heap of pity just now," said Sam.
"I wish you had," responded Nat.
"You would get precious little of it, Mr. Squash-peddler, if I had," answered Sam. "The dog is none of your relations, and you needn't trouble yourself about him."
Ben Drake, ere this, had turned to aid Sam in executing his purpose, and the pail was actually tied to Spot's tail before this conversation closed.
"Take off the cover," said Ben, and no quicker said than done; whereupon Spot ran yelping down the street, the tin pail rattling behind him so as to frighten him beyond measure. The faster he ran, the more the pail rattled, and the more terrified the dog was. Men stopped in the street to see the cruel sport, and express their disapproval.
"It is one of Sam Drake's tricks," said Charlie to an inquiry put by a gentleman.
Sam and Ben laughed till they could scarcely stand upon their feet to see the dog run. It was just such sport as they loved.
"Hurrah for Spot!" shouted Sam, swinging his hat. "He'll spill his dinner if he don't carry the pail more carefully."
"If it was my dog," said Frank, "you would find my father after you."
"You ought to be ashamed of yourself," added Nat. "It would not have been more cruel in you to kill him outright. You are always up to something of the kind."