"
The dog was black, but much larger than Pixy, was shaggy and unkempt,
and had a cross and savage look, very different from the well-kept and
gentle Pixy.
"We have found our dog," replied Mrs. Steiner. "I am sorry that you
went to the trouble of bringing one."
"Found your dog? Where is he?"
"Fritz, bring Pixy here," called his aunt, and Fritz came with his dog,
followed by Franz and Paul.
"I have been more than half an hour coming here with this dog in answer
to your advertisement, and should be paid for my trouble," said the
young man, gruffly.
"It is not our fault that you came. It is not our dog. See, he is not at
all like ours and he does not answer to the name of Pixy."
"See if he don't," and he jerked the dog's head up by the cord as he
called "Pixy!"
"No matter if his name is Pixy, he is not our dog. Our dog is here, as
you see."
The man grew angry and raised his voice, and the dogs, who had been
eyeing each other with no friendly looks, snarled and sprang upon each
other, and the small entry was the scene of such a fierce battle, and
resounded with such shrill yelps and much thumping and bumping about
that the very coats and hats on the pegs trembled.
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