do any good to reason with you, I can see that plainly. The thing I
ought to do is to go down there and punish you severely. But I'll--
Hello! Hey, boy! Call off this--confounded dog."

Two small Lord Fauntleroy boys were standing in the door, gazing up at
him with wide open mouths and bulging eyes.

"Call him off, I say, or I'll come down there and kick a hole clear
through him." The boys stared all the harder. "Is your name Austin?" he
demanded, addressing neither in particular.

"Yes, sir," answered the larger boy, with an effort.

"Well, where's your father? Shut up, you brute! Can't you see I'm
talking? Go tell your father I want to see him, boy."

"Dad's up at the house."

"That sounds encouraging. Can't you call off this dog?"

"I--I guess I'd better not. That's what dad keeps him for."

"Oh, he does, eh? And what is it that he keeps him for?"

"To watch tramps."

"To watch--to watch tramps? Say, boy, I'm a lawyer and I'm here on
business." He was black in the face with indignation.

"You better come up to the house and see dad, then. He don't live in the