"Well, maybe you could lend me five dollars on that dog. I'll pay you
back to-morrow."

"Can't do it."

"Will you take him as a gift, and give me a chaw of terbacker?"

"I don't chew."

"Very strange," he muttered, thoughtfully. "There's no encouragement
for a man in this world. Sure you won't take him?"

"Yes, certain."

"Then, you miserable whelp, git out of here, or I'll kick the breath
out of you. Come, now, git!" And he gave the dog a kick that sent him
into the middle of the street, and then withdrew himself.

The trade in dogs certainly is not active in Millburg.




CHAPTER XXIV.

_THE DOG OF MR. BUTTERWICK'S, AND OTHER DOGS_.


One day I met Mr. Butterwick in the street leading his dog with a