And all the while Pincher was worrying and snarling, and Lord Tottenham shouting to us to get the dog away. He was dancing about in the road with Pincher hanging on like grim death; and his collar flapping about, where it was undone.
Then Noël said, "Haste, ere yet it be too late." So I said to Lord Tottenham—
"Stand still, aged sir, and I will endeavour to alleviate your distress."
He stood still, and I stooped down and caught hold of Pincher and whispered, "Drop it, sir; drop it!"
So then Pincher dropped it, and Lord Tottenham fastened his collar again—he never does change it if there's any one looking—and he said—
"I'm much obliged, I'm sure. Nasty vicious brute! Here's something to drink my health."
But Dicky explained that we are teetotallers, and do not drink people's healths. So Lord Tottenham said, "Well, I'm much obliged any way. And now I come to look at you—of course, you're not young ruffians, but gentlemen's sons, eh? Still, you won't be above taking a tip from an old boy—I wasn't when I was your age," and he pulled out half a sovereign.
