"That touches the question I was intending to raise," interposed Mr.
Ronald. "You managed to get Radcliffe's imagination considerably stirred
about Flicker, and the result is, he has asked me to see if I can't come
to an understanding with you. He wants me to buy Flicker."

Martha's genial smile faded. "Why, goodness gracious, Lor--I _should_
say, _Mr._ Ronald, the poor little rascal, dog rather, ain't worth two
cents. He's just a young flagrant pup, you wouldn't be bothered to
notice, 'less you had the particular likin' for such things we got."

"Radcliffe wants Flicker. I'll give you ten dollars for him."

"I--I couldn't take it, Mr. Ronald, sir. It wouldn't be fair to you!"

"Fifteen dollars."

"It ain't the money--"

"Twenty!"

"I--I can't!"

"Twenty-five dollars, Martha. Radcliffe's heart is set on the dog."

A quick observer, looking attentively at Mrs. Slawson's face, could have
seen something like a faint quiver disturb the firm lines of her lips
and chin for a moment. A flash, and it was gone.

"I'd _give_ you the dog, an' welcome, Mr. Ronald," she said presently,