"I cuffed the boy, and he said he'd take it out on Mumbles, as soon as
I'd gone away. I didn't like that. I offered to buy the dog, but the
boy didn't dare sell him. He said it belonged to his father, who'd
kill him and kick up a row besides if he didn't bring Mumbles home.
So I found out where they lived and as it wasn't far away I went home
with him."

"Crazy Patsy!" smiled Uncle John.

"And the dinner waiting!" groaned the Major, reproachfully.

"Well, I had a time, you can believe!" continued Patsy, with
animation. "The man was a big brute, and half drunk. He grabbed up the
little doggie and threw it into a box, and then told me to go home and
mind my business."

"Which of course you refused to do."

"Of course. I'd made up my mind to have that dog."

"Dogs," said the Major, "invariably are nuisances."

"Not invariably," declared Patsy. "Mumbles is different. Mumbles is a
good doggie, and wise and knowing, although he's only a baby dog yet.
And I just couldn't leave him to be cuffed and kicked and thrown
around by those brutes. When the man found I was determined to have
Mumbles he demanded twenty-five dollars."

"Twenty-five dollars!" It startled Uncle John.