his friend, while granting his knowledge of dogs in general, questioning
the unprejudiced nature of his judgment as far as Slipper was concerned.

As Duff's declarations grew in violence they became more and more
elaborately decorated with profanity. In the full tide of their
conversation a quiet voice broke in:

"Too many 'damns.'"

"What!" exclaimed Duff.

"I beg your pardon!" said Sandy.

"Too many 'damns,'" said Barry, looking quietly at Duff.

"Dams? Where?" said Duff, looking about.

"Beaver dams, do you mean?" enquired Sandy. "I don't see any."

"Too many 'damns,'" reiterated Barry. "You don't need them. You really
don't need them, you know, and besides, they are not right. Profanity is
quite useless, and it's wicked."

"Well, I'll be damned!" said Stewart in a low voice to his friend. "He
means us."

"And quite right, too," said Sandy solemnly. "You know your English is
rotten bad. Yes, sir," he continued, turning round to Barry, "I quite
agree with you. My friend is quite unnecessarily free in his speech."