"Ours," said Archie, "and I'm mad at him 'cause he killed a bird and tried
to bite Vi Travilla, when she went to take it from him."

"Like enough," returned Jared, grinning. "But what about it?"

"I thought may be you'd like to have him."

"So I would, what'll you sell him for?"

"Ten cents."

"I hain't got but two."

"Haven't you, Jared? truly, now?"

"No, nary red, 'cept them," and diving into his pantaloons' pocket, Jared
produced a handful of odds and ends--a broken knife, a plug of tobacco,
some rusty nails, a bit of twine, etc.,--from which he picked out two
nickels. "There, them's um, and they's all I got in the world," he said
gravely, passing them over to Archie.

"Well, it's very cheap," observed the latter, pocketing the cash, "but you
can have him. Good-bye," and away he ran back to the spot where he had
left Vi.

"You're a green 'un!" laughed Jared, looking after him; then whistling to
the dog to follow, he went on his way.